Father Rufus Halley

Father Rufus Halley

by: Gaudencio B. Cardinal Rosales

I first met Father Rufus Halley in the mid-1970s when I was appointed auxiliary bishop in Manila with responsibility for Rizal Province, the area that became the Diocese of Antipolo in 1983. The Columbans had been working in parishes there since before the War. Father Rufus was in Jalajala at the time. Father Feliciano Manalili, a diocesan priest, introduced me to him. Father Manalili is now a Trappist monk in Mepkin Abbey, South Carolina, USA, where he is prior.

New friend
At first I knew Father Rufus in a formal way, as one of the parish priests under my jurisdiction. But I gradually began to know this man with an open personality and a wonderful sense of humor as a person. On one occasion he invited me to a barrio in his parish that was 45 minutes by boat from the centro. He had forewarned me that this would be a different kind of pastoral visit. We set off in the afternoon. The house where we stayed was on a duck farm and some of the birds were waddling around the house. There was no electricity. After dinner we walked around the village. I saw the people at their usual occupations that included drinking and gambling games such as bingo. Father Rufus introduced me as ‘my friend from Manila,’ which wasn’t untrue, as we were in the Archdiocese of Manila.

Back at the house we chatted for a long time and prayed together. We decided we’d celebrate Mass the next day back at the centro. We slept on the floor. As we were leaving next morning people came to see us off and it was only then that their parish priest told them that I was the area bishop. Though there was some embarrassment, especially among those who were members of Church organizations, there was a lot of laughter at the realization that the bishop had met them as they really were.

Tagalog speaking Irishman.
By this time Father Rufus and I were close friends and I called him ‘Pareng Rufus’ and he called me ‘Pareng Dency.’ I felt free to drop in on him any time and to go through the back door of his convento. Sometimes I wouldn’t find him in the office or upstairs and would then realize that, despite his red hair and blue eyes, I had passed him in the kitchen, where he was chatting with the staff. (His baptismal name was Michael but his parents always called him ‘Rufus’ because of his red hair). What threw me was that I’d hear only pure Tagalog while walking through the kitchen. My Irish friend spoke the language perfectly.

Father Rufus Halley with the author, Gaudencio B. Cardinal Rosales

Another trademark of Father Rufus was his bakya. I learned from the late Father Patrick Ronan, then parish priest in Morong, that Father Rufus came from a privileged background. That was a revelation to me, as I had always been struck by the simplicity I saw in his life. Father Ronan, another Irish missionary with a great sense of humor and known to his fellow Columbans as ‘Pops’, had spent time in jail in China after the Communist takeover in 1949.

Around 1980 Father Rufus felt called by God to leave the security of living in an overwhelmingly Catholic community to work in the new Prelature of Marawi, which includes all of Lanao del Sur and part of Lanao del Norte, where 95 percent of the people are Muslims. He was very aware of the long history of tension and occasional outright conflict between Christians and Muslims. He also became fluent in two other languages, Maranao, spoken by the Muslims in the area, and Cebuano, spoken by the Christians.

His kind of dialogueo

I too moved to Mindanao, becoming Coadjutor Bishop of Malaybalay in 1982 and succeeding Bishop Francisco Claver SJ in 1984. On one occasion, after spending about a week on retreat in the Benedictine Monastery of the Transfiguration in Malaybalay, Pareng Rufus came to spend a night at my place. He spoke of a ‘brother Muslim’ whom he loved very much and told me that he had been hired to work in a store in the market in Malabang, Lanao del Sur. ‘Why?’ I asked him. ‘This is my kind of dialogue,’ he told me. He was pushing Christian-Muslim dialogue to the limit. When the late Bishop Bienvenido Tudtud, first bishop of the then Prelature of Iligan, which covered the two Lanao provinces, told Pope Paul VI of the conflict there and of his vision of a ‘dialogue of life’ between the two communities, the Pope encouraged him to the extent of dividing the prelature and transferring him to Marawi. Bishop Tudtud died tragically in a plane crash in 1987.

Father Rufus Halley with Maranao-Muslim friends

Male dominated Maranaos
My friend Rufus wanted not only to know the faith and culture of Muslims but to ‘befriend the culture of our brother Muslims.’ More than that, he wanted to understand the culture of the Maranaos. This involved trying to understand aspects of that culture that went against his own warm nature and that didn’t seem to be in harmony with the Gospel. For example, he noticed that among Maranao men it wasn’t seen as proper to show any public signs of softness, even if a child of theirs was hurt. He noticed how stiff Maranao men are in their dances which many Filipinos are familiar with. Men sometimes carry a kris as a sign of power. He was well aware that many men, Christian and Muslim, carry a gun for the same reason, and not only in Lanao. He asked himself if there were any areas of tenderness in the macho culture of the Maranaos and stressed the importance of trying to find ways in which the Gospel could enter into dialogue with that culture.

Pareng Rufus was really educating me that night.

Who inspired himo
I knew of the intensity with which Father Rufus lived his own Christian faith, how he began each day with an hour of adoration before the Blessed Sacrament, the centrality of the Mass in his life. A big influence on him was the life of Charles de Foucauld, 1858-1916, beatified last November. This Frenchman was also from a privileged background. Unlike Pareng Rufus, he lost his Catholic faith and became a notorious playboy before re-discovering it, partly through the example of Muslims living in North Africa. He spent many years as a priest living among the poorest Muslims in a remote corner of the Sahara, pioneering Christian-Muslim dialogue by discovering himself as the Little Brother of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament and as the Little Brother of the Muslims who came knocking at his hermitage door.

Death of a peacemaker 
On 1 December 1916 Charles de Foucauld died at the hands of a young gunman outside his hermitage and on 28 September 2001 Pareng Rufus died at the hands of gunmen who ambushed him as he was riding on his motorcycle from a meeting of Muslim and Christian leaders in Balabagan to his parish in Malabang. The local people, both Christian and Muslim, mourned for him deeply. The grief of the Muslims was all the greater because the men who murdered my Pareng Rufus happened to be Muslims. This great missionary priest brought both communities together in their shared grief for a man of God, a true follower of Jesus Christ.

Fr. Godofredo Alingal, S.J.

Fr. Godofredo Alingal, S.J.

Fr. Godofredo Alingal, called Fr. Ling by friends, was born in Dapitan City in Zamboanga del Norte, a province considered a “Jesuit country,” and so perhaps it was inevitable for this son of the soil and the sea to become a Jesuit priest.

Fr. Ling’s first assignments were in the province of Bukidnon, moving to Ateneo de Naga, Cagayan de Oro City, and in 1968, back to Bukidnon.

At that time, the Catholic Church was seeing dramatic changes as an aftermath of the Second Vatican Council. The Gospel was henceforth to be preached beyond the walls of the church, and in the fields, market places, the hills, and lived as a witness to give people back their dignity and their rights.

Fr. Ling embraced these new church teachings, preaching as well as practicing them with his flock. He found Bukidnon a land of great social conflicts. Politics was rough, and bullets counted more than ballots. Peasants were oppressed by landlords, usurers and middlemen, and power was in the hands of a small few.

Fr. Ling’s involvement with farmers began by helping them start a credit union and a grains marketing cooperative. He helped organize the Kibawe chapter of the Federation of Free Farmers (FFF).

Fr. Godofredo Alingal, S.J.

Martial law brought repression and militarization to Zamboanga del Norte, and Fr. Ling redoubled his efforts in behalf of poor people. He started a Community Organization Program, believed a first of its kind in rural Philippines. The program aimed to organize farmers, mothers and vendors to protest abuses and demand their rights.

Gentle and soft-spoken, Fr. Ling nevertheless spoke out against electoral fraud, threats and harassments by the military, denouncing these from the pulpit and through the prelature newsletter Bandilyo. In 1977, the martial law government closed down the prelature radio station DXBB, and Fr. Ling, refusing to be cowed, started the Blackboard News Service, a giant blackboard in front of the church, broadcasting news otherwise being suppressed, and as always, denouncing official abuses. The blackboard was vandalized repeatedly, but Fr. Ling, exhibiting both patience and determination, simply put up a new blackboard to replace it.

Fr. Ling’s advocacy for clean elections in 1980 earned him a written death threat: “Stop using the pulpit for politics … your days are numbered.” He received another death threat months later. But he told himself, “What else is there to do -- the priesthood is not a safe vocation.”

He had just gotten orders for reassignment to another parish in April 1981, when assassins swooped down on his parish and killed him on the evening of the 13th of April. Two parish houseboys having gone out to lock up the church for the night were suddenly crying for help. The priest, wanting to know what was happening, opened his door to five men, armed and wearing masks. A .45 caliber automatic was aimed at him, one bullet going straight through his heart. Two men then ran up to cut off the church’s electric connection. Then they all fled on motorbikes. A physician living nearby rushed to the church when he heard the shot. Fr. Ling died in his arms.

He was 59.

Two bishops and about 70 priests, including then Jesuit Father Provincial Joaquin Bernas, concelebrated the funeral mass for Fr. Ling. Thousands coming from the town proper and the surrounding barrios and towns joined the funeral march, bringing with them placards, painted with the angry query: "Hain ang justicia? (Where is justice?)” People across Bukidnon expressed their outrage over the priest’s killing.

Sr. Dorothy Stang: Living in Extreme Poverty with the Poorest of the Poor

Sr. Dorothy Stang

Sr. Dorothy Stang chose to live in extreme poverty in order to help others living in poverty. She had a passion for people of all cultures, for social justice, peacemaking, fairness, and respect for the environment. She possessed few material things: a mix-match of colorful clothing, spartan furnishings and her Bible, which she carried everywhere and sometimes called it her “weapon.”

On a rain-soaked Saturday in February 2005, she carried that Bible while making her way along a muddy Amazon jungle road. She was headed to Boa Esperança, a village near Anapu, where she lived in the northern Brazil state of Para. The area lies on the eastern edge of the Amazon, a region known for its wealth of natural resources and the violence that boils over from land disputes.

Waiting for Sr. Dorothy that morning was a group of peasant farmers whose homes had been burned down to the ground on the land which the federal government had granted to these farmers. In the entire state of Para and in a place like Boa Esperança, legal title to land does not always end disputes. In Para, logging firms and wealthy ranchers find assistance from local politicians and police in procuring and commandeering property from indigenous peoples and small farmers. While Sr. Dorothy walked on toward Boa Esperança, she heard taunts from men who had stopped alongside her. The rain poured as she stopped and opened her Bible. She read to the men. They listened to two verses, stepped back and aimed their guns. Sr. Dorothy raised her Bible toward them and six shots were fired at point blank range. She fell to the ground, martyred.

In the days preceding her murder on February 12, 2005, Sr. Dorothy was attempting to halt illegal logging where land sharks had interests but no legal rights. Authorities believe the murder was arranged by a local rancher for $19,300 (U.S.). Many believe that a consortium of loggers and ranchers had contributed to the bounty on Sr. Dorothy’s head in an effort to silence her. Ironically, their attempt at silence resulted in an opposite effect: an outraged world, well informed about the murder through persistent global media reports, sent Sr. Dorothy’s voice soaring to new heights. And a proclamation came quickly from Brazil’s President Luis Inacio “Lula” da Silva, that the land in question, over 22,000 acres, would be reserved for sustainable development by the poor farmers whose cause Sr. Dorothy had championed.

Following her death, Brazil’s Human Rights Minister, Nilmario Miranda, described her as “a legend, a person considered a symbol of the fight for human rights in Para.” While this accolade has become global consensus, Sisters who knew the down-to-earth Sr. Dorothy state that she would have cringed at being called a legend. Having spoken with Sr. Dorothy days before her death about threats against herself and others, Mr.Miranda says: “She always asked for protection for others, never for herself.”

Her Sisters, family, friends and colleagues gathering around tables, at prayer services and in classrooms around the world, try to understand the pattern of fact and circumstances that led to Sr. Dorothy’s death. Many are curious to know more about her ministry and what brought her to Brazil in the first place.

Like most Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur, Dorothy Stang chose life in this Congregation which has a clear preference for work among those living in poverty. At age 18, she completed her application to join the Sisters and wrote boldly across the top of the form: “I would like to volunteer for the Chinese missions.” She never served in China, but her dream of missionary work was realized in Brazil.

Sr. Dorothy lived and worked in Brazil for nearly 40 years. She went there for the first time in 1966 with five other Sisters of Notre Dame. At that time, Sr. Dorothy and her Sisters spoke little or no Portuguese. So they began the ministry with language learning. Soon they established a new convent at Coroatá in the state of Maranhão, where they trained lay catechists and gave religious instruction to adults. Over time, the Sisters became more aware of the social problems troubling this region, particularly the oppression of farmers. The Sisters reacted by stressing basic tenets of human rights in their lessons and their work took on new proportions and expanded to new areas in Brazil.

Sr. Barbara English was among the group who traveled to Brazil with Sr. Dorothy. She remembers: “By 1968, all of us (SNDs) in Brazil were aware of the repression and violence promoted by the military dictatorship. People who worked for human rights and for the small farmers’ rights to the land were labeled subversive and the military dictatorship had them hunted down.”

In the early 1970s, Brazil’s government touted the benefits for impoverished people to move to the Transamazonian region. Landless people saw this as an opportunity to become farming homesteaders. Many moved to the state of Para to begin new lives for their families. This sparked in Sr. Dorothy something that would have attracted many Sisters of Notre Dame — the chance to help people create better lives for themselves. She packed up and joined the farmers on their journey to the new frontier but once there, they all realized that the poverty and insecurity they had left behind had been replaced by new problems: land sharks, intent on occupying the soil they had come to till, were taking over. Officials in Para offered no remedy since many police and politicians were well paid to scare off the homesteaders.

The farmers who had traveled to the region on the advice of the Brazilian government found their dreams of independence and security for their families not only elusive but dangerous. So they moved even deeper into the forest, and Sr. Dorothy moved with them. Still, the situation was the same after each migration and, according to Sr. Barbara, it became obvious by 1980 that the government had other plans for the region.

The Great Carajás Project designated 10.5 million acres in northern Brazil for development encompassing three states, including Para. Sr. Barbara recalls: “This sector of Brazil held every imaginable mineral deposit along with potential highways, railways and waterways for transportation, as well as potential dams for energy.” The plan was to open the land for mining, refining and agribusiness projects.

“They were David facing Goliath,” said Sr. Barbara, of Sr. Dorothy and the peasant farmers, “and Goliath came in the form of multinationals, big businesses, ranching and lumber companies ... They began to devour the Amazon forest.” (Environmentalists estimate that the Amazon loses 9,170 square miles of forest every year and that about 20% of its 1.6 million square miles has already been cut down to make cattle pasture or to log cedar, mahogany and other precious hardwoods.)

Sr. Dorothy and “her people” moved still further into the forest. Her dream of landless families safely engaged in sustainable development projects brought her ultimately to Anapu, Para in 1982. There, she worked to develop a new type of agrarian society that helped farm families from diverse cultures develop common bonds and learn how to use the soil to sustain themselves and the land. With Sr. Dorothy’s help, the communities in Anapu lived in solidarity and with respect for the environment. During these years, she worked with the Pastoral Land Commission, an agency of the Bishops’ Conference in Brazil. She also helped to foster small family business projects in the village, often creating, for the first time in many families, women breadwinners.

“She helped train agricultural technicians and worked hard to create a fruit factory,” said Betsy Flynn, SND, a Sister of Notre Dame whose ministry has also brought her to Brazil. Sr. Betsy remembers Sr. Dorothy as a person supporting the community she helped build through education and health care. “She worked to create schools and helped teachers become properly trained and credentialed,” said Sr. Betsy. “Many people learned to read and write because of Sr. Dorothy Stang. She also had a vast knowledge of popular health care remedies, particularly useful in areas where doctors and hospitals are scarce, and medication costs are often exorbitant.”

In the last year of her life, Sr. Dorothy was granted naturalized citizenship in Brazil. She received a humanitarian award from a Brazilian lawyers’ association and officials in the state of Para named her “Woman of the Year.” Both honors were given for her work to secure land rights for peasants but while she was given the award from the officials in Para, a plan was underway for a paved highway through the area, raising land values higher and escalating the violence.

At the federal level, President da Silva is caught between a promise to find homes for 400,000 landless families, an expressed desire to protect the rainforest and the pressure to open tracts of forest to support economic growth. External pressure comes from the International Monetary Fund, which loaned Brazil billions of dollars after its 2002 recession. It is a dangerous and complicated life for many in Brazil, but for none more than the people in Para. The Pastoral Land Commission reported recently that the state of Para has been the site of 40% of the 1,237 land-conflict killings in Brazil over the past 30 years. The many concerns surrounding the climate of corruption in Para have increased efforts to move the investigation into Sr. Dorothy’s murder from the state to the federal government. It is widely believed that a fair trial cannot be achieved in Para.

Mary Alice McCabe, SND, who defends the rights of families relying on the fishing trade in Ceara, Brazil, says of Sr. Dorothy: “She was with the excluded migrant farmers in their constant, futile search for a piece of land to call their own. She persistently pressured the government to do its job in defending the rights of the people. She never gave up. She never lost hope.”

Several thousand people attended Sr. Dorothy's funeral. In the month following her murder, four men were arrested and charged with the murder. President da Silva sent 2,000 troops to the area to quell violence, while the United States sent FBI agents to Anapu to investigate the killing. Memorial services were conducted around the world and the Brazilian Ambassador to the United States spoke at a Memorial Mass for Sr. Dorothy in Baltimore. On March 9, 2005, U.S. Congress Resolution #89 was introduced, honoring the life of Sr. Dorothy Stang. On December 10, 2008, Sr. Dorothy Stang was awarded the 2008 United Nations Award in the Field of Human Rights.

She is buried in a grove in Anapu, her grave marked with a simple wooden cross bearing her name and dates of birth and death.

Bishop Benjamin de Jesus, OMI

Bishop Benjamin de Jesus, OMI

In Sulu, Tawi-Tawi missions, Bishop Ben got used to riding on boats to visit the different islands to administer the sacraments or visits the school. He was exposed in dealing with top government officials of the province/municipality and military officials.

This was particularly true in Sulu. Bishop Ben spoke in several occasions when his life was endangered and trembling with fear he carried on the work. He would share ‘the times of difficulties in trying to be faithful to the vows’. During the 50th Jubilee of OMI presence in Jolo, he shared ‘Thanks be to God I preserved in His service! If God gave me the grace to be faithful for the past 27 years as a religious and 21 years as a priest, I hope and pray that by the grace of our OMI Golden Jubilee celebration, I will be able to persevere unto the end, singing praises to God for the good things He has done in me and through me to the people that I serve. Oblate vocation is truly a gratuitous gift of God to me. I am an ordinary human being, weak, vulnerable, but God used me to proclaim his love and compassion to others.’

Bishop Ben was kindness and friendship personified. When he was shot in front of the Jolo Cathedral in the morning of February 4th, 1997, shock waves reverberated to the entire Congregation of the Missionary Oblates of Mary Immaculate and to the Philippine Church. He was the first Bishop brutally killed few months after the Final Peace Agreement between the Philippine Government and the Moro National Liberation Front was signed on September 2, 1996.

Bishop Benjamin de Jesus, OMI

Two weeks before the bishop was martyred, a devoted woman came to tell an Oblate of her vision. She said, “Father, I have seen a vision. I’ve seen throngs of people in the clouds and they were carrying lighted candles. They surrounded someone who was dressed in white robe.” Then, the lady asked innocently, “What does that vision mean, Father?” The priest did not know what it meant but he wanted to be polite with her and so he explained that perhaps what she saw in her vision was the Last Day of Judgment as told in the book of Revelations and depicted by artists in some of those medieval paintings. When she left, he forgot everything about that encounter. But during the wake Bishop Ben, that same woman approached him again and said, “Father, do you remember the vision I told you about”? He was temporarily suspended. He looked at her and said, “Yes, I remember.”

If indeed it was God’s will that Bishop Ben would die, then, we believe it was not without purpose. Bishop Ben’s death has moved many peace advocates throughout the country to work even more for peace to reign in the Philippines. His dream of a harmonious relationship among Muslims and Christians has inspired the hearts of a new wave of dialoguers. Bishop Ben’s martyrdom became a symbol of dialogue and peace.

Fr. Benjamin Inocencio, OMI

He was born January 17, 1958 in Ugong, Pasig City, Metro Manila. Having obtained a college degree in accounting and he worked in a bank prior to novitiate. He made his first vows at Tamontaka in 1986 and was ordained a priest in 1992 at the age of 34. After ordination he was parish priest at Timanan, South Upi, Maguindanao for a year before being assigned to Cagayan de Mapun, Tawi-Tawi one of the remote island stations of the Apostolic Vicariate of Jolo. He spent eight years the reserving the Badjaos the poorest among the poor in the southernmost part of the Philippines before being appointed Chancellor of the Vicariate in June this year.

Bishop Angelito LAMPON Vicar Apostolic of Jolo who has known Fr Inocencio for many years describes him as a very kind and open person easy to get along with.“He would regularly meet the staff and pray with them in inter-religious worship – because we have Muslims on our staff. They prayed together.He was very kind to people and they did not hesitate to approach him to talk. He was very transparent the kind of person of whom you can say ‘what you see is what you get’” said the bishop.

Others who knew Fr. Inocencio say he was “a very quiet meditative person… a very kind and gentle person… quiet and simple.”

According to Bishop Lampon Fr. Inocencio was on his way to the market to buy items needed for the Jolo Vicariate’s combined Christmas and Hari-Raya celebration to be held the next day. A day before the incident Jolo celebrated Eid’l Fitr marking the end of fasting in the Islamic holy month of Ramadan and the end of a Vicariate sponsored seminar on the culture of peace.

Fr. Inocencio, 42, was martyred on Thursday, December 28, 2009. He was ordained to the priesthood at Grace Park, Caloocan City, Metro Manila on April 25, 1992. He was first assigned to Timanan in June 1992. Three months later he was assigned to Cagayan de Mapun in Tawi-Tawi, where he became the Parochial Vicar of Mapun Parish and at the same time the Director of Notre Dame of Mapun. He spent more than eight years of humble and faithful service to the people of island.

In June 2000, he was assigned Chancellor of the Apostolic Vicariate of Jolo with Bishop Angelito R. Lampon, OMI, DD. At the same time, he served as Chaplain of the Notre Dame of Jolo College.

Beside the Cathedral of Jolo, Fr. Inocencio was shot on the head that caused his sudden death on the feast of the Holy Innocents, December 28, 2000.

The Martyrdom of Fr. Benjamin Inocencio, OMI fondly called as Fr. Benjie, is a second brutal murder of the servant of the Catholic Church which took place in Jolo. The first was the senseless killing of Bishop Benjamin de Jesus, OMI, DD on February 4, 1997.

Fr. Jesus Reynaldo Roda, OMI: “If you want me, then just kill me here in God’s chapel!”

Fr. Nelson Javellana, OMI

Fr. Nelson Javellana, OMI was born in November 11, 1941 in Kabankalan, Negros Occidental. In 1957, he joined the Oblate Juniorate in Baesa, Quezon City. As was the set-up then, he took up his classical studies in the nearby Jesuit-run San Jose Seminary. After he made his novitiate in Tamontaka, in Dinaig (now Datu Odin Sinsuat), Maguindanao, he returned to San Jose Seminary for his philosophical studies and later, his theological studies at the Loyola House of Studies, also Jesuit-run, at the Ateneo de Manila University campus. He made his perpetual vows in 1964.
Nelson, as close friends (he was one of my best friends) were wont to call him, was well liked by his fellow seminarians. He was a very generous person - with himself, his time and his talents. He was "always available" for anything. Those who wanted a quick hair cut got it from him during recreation time. Being highly intelligent, he helped those who were not as well gifted - to explain patiently a difficult philosophical or theological concept or to type and correct at the same time their term papers or reports, sometimes even up to midnight.

While doing his theological studies, Nelson took a leave of absence for personal reasons. He forthwith taught in the high school department of De La Salle College in Bacolod City. After a year, he transferred to the Oblate-run Notre Dame University in Cotabato City and taught mostly philosophy subjects. Two years later, he returned to the Oblate scholasticate in Quezon City and continued his theological studies. He was ordained to the priesthood in Bacolod City in April 11, 1971.

Thereafter, he worked in the Archdiocese of Cotabato as assistant parish priest of Esperanza then a part of the Municipality of Ampatuan. He was also the director of the high schools of Notre Dame of Esperanza and Notre Dame of Dukay.

Fr. Nelson Javellana, OMI

As a young priest, Nelson had shown the zeal not only of a missionary but also of an educator and community worker. He had a great future ahead of him with the Oblates. But that was not to be.

In November 3, 1971, Nelson and a group of about 70 people from Esperanza went to Cotabato City in a convoy of several vehicles. This was for protection as the conflict between the Muslims and Christians was raging. Many of the men were also armed though not Nelson. They were to present a petition at a hearing to be presided by the national government's chairman of the Commission on Elections (Comelec). Previously, in a peace conference with the provincial governor, the Christian leaders of Esperanza drew up a petition for the transfer of the counting of ballots from the barrios to the town and to suspend voting in seven towns in the national and local elections which were about to be held. Nelson was a signatory of the petition.

When they arrived in Cotabato City, they were told that the Comelec chairman would be in the 5:00 PM plane. They waited for the plane and had a plane side conference with the Comelec chairman. They then proceeded to return to Esperanza.

While their baby bus was negotiating a bad, muddy and uphill portion of the highway in Tambunan, Dinaig, they were ambushed by an unidentified armed band. From both sides of the road they were sprayed with bullets from automatic weapons including 50 caliber machine guns. They were completely taken by surprise. Those who did not die from bullets were hacked to death. Nelson was one of the twelve men who died instantly. He sustained bullet wounds all over his body. All were divested of their personal valuables. The soldier who served as their security detail was stripped of his uniform, boots, garand rifle and ammunition.

The authorities said the ambush was politically motivated. The murderers were never identified.

Nelson was a priest for only seven months when he was killed. Then Father Provincial John Murphy OMI wrote in the Provincial Missive dated November 25, 1971 thus: "He was just beginning his priestly ministry with the promise of many long years of dedicated service ahead of him.... We can certainly say that he died because of his generosity to his friends. He felt justified in taking these risks...."

Fr. Nelson Javellana, OMI was the first member of the Philippine Province to die a violent death. Others were to follow some years later. In February 4, 1997, his classmate, Bishop Benjamin "Ben" de Jesus, was assasinated and in December 28, 2000, another Benjamin, Fr. "Benjie" Inocencio was killed in the same way. Both were shot in Jolo, Sulu in broad daylight. And like Nelson's case, theirs remain unsolved to this day.

These three Oblates had one thing in common: they all died in the service of the people and community they were sent to shepherd.

Fr. Jesus Reynaldo Roda, OMI: “If you want me, then just kill me here in God’s chapel!”

“If you want me, then just kill me here in God’s chapel!” Those were the words heard from Fr. Rey as he was being forcedly taken out by his killers from the chapel where he was praying. There were shouts for help. Outside the chapel, near the flag pole in the quadrangle of Notre Dame of Tabawan High School, a piercing shot was heard loud in the dark. After this, except for the silhouettes of the killers dragging their victim, nothing more was seen by those peeping through the jalousies from the second floor of the school building.

Later, Fr. Rey’s body was found just outside the school premises, left on a road near the shoreline from where the murderers sped away in a motorized boat. His body bore several wounds from gunshots, stabs and lacerations in the head, face, neck, abdomen and on the back. From the wounds it is quite clear that he was meant to be killed and not to be kidnapped. As regards who killed him or who had ordered the assassins to kill him, up to this writing, we are still waiting for a satisfactory investigation result from the authorities.

Fr. Jesus Reynaldo Roda, OMI., was mercilessly killed at about 8:30 in that bleak and starless evening of January 15, 2008 in the remote island of Tabawan, South Ubian, Tawi-Tawi, Philippines. Not so distant southward is already Indonesian territory. He had been Director of Notre Dame of Tabawan High School and head of the OMI Mission Station there under the Apostolic Vicariate of Jolo for ten years.

Fr. Rey was born to Bonifacio Roda and Benigna Albores on February 5, 1954 at Cotabato City. He had one brother and 3 sisters. He entered the Oblate Juniorate in 1970 after graduating from Notre Dame of Cotabato High School, took his perpetual vows as an Oblate of Mary Immaculate in 1979 and was ordained priest at the Immaculate Conception Cathedral on May 10, 1980.

After his ordination he had been assigned as Parish Vicar in Grace Park, Caloocan City in 1980 and in Midsayap, North Cotabato in 1981, as Parish Priest and Notre Dame high school Director in 1982 at Lebak, Cotabato, as Parish Priest in Magpet, Cotabato in 1984, as Chancellor of Kidapawan diocese in 1988 and as Parish Priest of Pres. Roxas, Cotabato in 1991. He did a stint in the foreign mission. He was sent to Thailand in 1992 and became the Rector of the Oblate Juniorate in Bankok. He came back to the Philippines in 1997 to be in Batu-Batu Mission in Tawi-Tawi and in June 1998 he took over as Director of Notre Dame of Tabawan High School and head of the Mission Station there up to his death just about 2 weeks before his 54rth birthday.

Fr. Rey had been ministering to the people of Tabawan and neighboring islands through education, infra-structure and developmental projects to alleviate poverty. The people are more than 99% Muslims, mostly Samals with a sprinkling of Tausug. The Christians are less than 1% and not all Catholics. The other Christians have their own Pastor, a good friend of Fr. Rey.

Every year, Fr. Rey used to write a Christmas letter expressing his greetings and summarizing the big events of that year in Tabawan. He sent this to friends who were helping him somehow in his mission. I have copies of his letters sent to our common friend who works and live in Rome, Italy. She was on vacation and intending to visit Rey in Tabawan but unfortunately and sadly she attended Fr. Rey’s funeral instead in Cotabato City.

In his December 20, 2000 letter, Fr. Rey said: “ A holy Christmas greetings from Tabawan, "probably, the most peaceful island’ in the world!” Although near the end of that letter, he also mentioned that Southern Philippines is besieged, among others, by “Abu Sayaff’s terrorism and the rise of Muslim fundamentalism.” In 2005, he also wrote: “We are losing hope in the corrupt-ridden government bureaucracy. We expect little from our power-hungry elected officials.”

He wrote:”As we end this year 2006, we thank the merciful and compassionate God for His countless blessings to me and to the peace-loving Sama people of Tabawan.” Then, he mentioned his development projects achieved through the assistance of Tabang Mindanao and Pagtabangan Basulta, a coalition of NGOs: the feeding program of 6 months for 120 Grade One pupils; the sending of public school teachers to the capability-building seminars in Bongao and Davao city. The latter because of distance would entail tremendous expense even just the transportation alone; the rehabilitation of 7 units of Grade One classroom and the construction of 2 water tanks for the public school. Most of all he was thankful that God spared him from the evil intent of kidnappers who barged into the rectory in November. He was in bongao then.

In that letter, he added this: “As I, together with my trusted aides Jularino and Sayatul engage in doing more development projects with the people, I know I will be somehow concerned for my safety and security. I will be less mobile than before. … Hopefully, the community will assist the police in monitoring and warding off violent men. I need such peaceful atmosphere in order to live, to work and to pray. Tabawan has been my place for 9 years now.”

Fr. Rey wrote his 2007 Christmas letter without knowing it would be his last. He was so happy to report that at the beginning of the year 2007, ND Tabawan’s Community Extention Services, which he had organized years before, facilitated the coming of GMA Kapuso Foundation all the way from Manila to distribute Christmas gifts to 2,500 children of Tabawan and Bintawlan, the neighboring island. He had also mentioned in the letter that the 7 units of Grade 1 classroom and 2 cement water tanks had been completed for the public schools and 150 children including those from the neighboring island are still in the feeding program.

Aside from all these, out of some 357 high school students enrolled at Notre Dame of Tabawan, more than 30 are under scholarship. There are also 8 college students at Notre dame of Jolo College, Ateneo de Zamboanga University, Notre dame University, Cotabato City and Mindanao State University at Marawi City. Their being at school is dependent so much on what fr. Rey was able to receive from donors personally contacted or through his solicitation letters.

At his death, the people of Tabawan, particularly the scholars, were all asking: What will happen to us now? “Other Oblates will come to serve you,” the Oblates responded.

I have been with Fr. Rey for 5 years in Magpet parish, North Cotabato, and that created in us a special bonding. Fr. Rey, where you are now in that Great Beyond where there are no more tears nor sweat nor fears, know that I am writing this as my best tribute to you. We honor you as our choice mission offering and we say to God, paraphrasing the Episcopal Motto of our present bishop, Angelito Lampon: Accipe Oblationem Nostram (Receive our oblation).

“Standing up to others for the social message of the Gospels” Carl Schmitz (+1988, Philippines)

Fr. Carl Schmitz, a Passionist priest from Chicago, was working in Japan when he felt called to work to the missions among the tribal Filipinos living in the mountains. The B’laans were abused people who had been displaced from the lowlands to the mountains where it was hard to find suitable land for their small gardens. Murder and burning of properties were rampant. Violence was constant.

Fr. Schmitz threw himself into this work with more vigor than ever. It was clear that Carl had never been happier nor more content. He considered everyone of the 80,000 B’laans his people. They were living in the mountains separated into hundreds of small communities, covering an area of thousands of square kilometers. He set out to visit every one of these scattered communities. In a short time, he was known and trusted by all because of his kindliness and his sincere concern for each one. Along with his spiritual message, he brought food when they were starving, medicines to combat the prevalence of sickness and disease; he built schools so that they could improve their economic and social condition. In his own personal life, he lived as the poorest, even using borrowed clothing. His Superiors had to order him to rest and to take care of his health. A new Christian culture was being born among the B’laans.

Father Schmitz lived the life of the B'laans in his center in the mountains. He taught them the faith. He felt the injustices they experienced in being driven from their homelands. He defended their rights to their lands and way of life. It is no wonder that there were those who wanted to see him silenced, removed, murdered.

Two serious issues faced the missionary. Paramilitary forces in the area often turned out to be bandits who used young Bila'ans as their agents in illegal logging and rustling water buffalo. When Fr.Carl discovered that going on, he would head up the mountains, find his people, persuade them to go to the coast with him and seek amnesty. The New Peoples Army (Communist) was another problem. Young Bila'ans often saw the NPA as a way to gain back their stolen lands. Fr. Carl tried to persuade his young men to leave the rebels and seek amnesty.

Photo Credit: Our Lady of Perpeutual Help Seminary Archives

His activities did not make him popular with the paramilitary. In Easter Week, 1988 Fr. Carl had brought six young B’laans to his out-mission at Bolul. He planned to take them from there to the authorities the next day. The paramilitary were probably uneasy, fearing some action could be taken against them. Determined to stop Fr. Carl, they got a young B’laan, Johnny Monday, half drunk. Handing him a Garand rifle they told him to kill Fr. Carl. Johnny was a former teacher in a Catholic school ran by Marist brothers, who worked together with the Passionist missionaries.

On the night of April 7, 1988, Johnny came to the hut where Fr. Schmitz lived. Fr. Schmitz, who was about to sleep, went outside to talk to Johnny, who was shouting at him. Earlier that day, Fr. Schmitz bought Johnny’s wife some medicine. Fr. Schmitz tried to calm Johnny down, but he wouldn’t. Johnny sprayed the priest with bullets and ran towards to house of the captain of the village. Fr. Schmitz’s mission was a missionary career crowned with martyrdom for justice. He loved the Bila'an people and would not allow them to be corrupted by the paramilitary, who were often bent on illegal logging and the rape of the virgin forests.

A Filipino priest who is campaigning for the canonization of Fr. Schmitz as a martyr said that Fr. Schmitz “was shot for not compromising on the social teachings that come from his faith and are based on the social justice principles of the Gospels.” Father Schmitz died not as a martyr for the Catholic faith, but as a man “standing up to others for the social message of the Gospels.”

How 1 Family Risked Life to Shelter Jews: The Ulma Family

Ulma Family

During the Nazi Occupation of Poland, many Jews had to escape from the Nazis in order to save their lives. They were discriminated, their properties were confiscated, and majority of them were sent to concentration camps. Many of the Jews sought refuge in Christian households, but they were only given a few days to stay out of fear of reprisals. One family showed complete hospitality to the endangered Jews to the point of risking their lives out of performing this act of charity.

Jozef and Wiktoria Ulma lived in Markowa. They were poor peasants who owned a fruit orchard. They were married in 1937 and had six children: four boys and two girls. Jozef was known to be sympathetic to the Jews and have sheltered a great number of Jews since the start of the war. Many Jews came to be sheltered since the house of the Ulmas was far from the village and it gave them a sense of safety. The last Jews they sheltered were six members of the Szallow family and the Goldman sisters. The eight Jews hid in the attic of the Ulmas for many months.

One time, the Nazi police searched every house in Markowa for sheltered Jews. The police discovered the Jews hidden in the Ulma household. First, the policemen only took a photograph of the house then left them in peace. In March 23, the police began to plan a crime.

Jozef and Wiktoria Ulma

The next day, at dawn, the police came to the Ulma household. German police surrounded the house. Then, shots were heard. First to be killed were the eight Jews. Then, Jozef and Wiktoria were taken to the garden of their house and killed. Wiktoria was nine-months pregnant at that time. The last ones to be killed were the six children. The oldest child was Stasia, eight, and the youngest was Marysia, one. Many villagers were forced to watch the massacre as a sign of warning for those who shelter Jews.

Father Stanislaw Jamrozek, the postulator of the canonization cause of the family, said the request for canonization was initiated by Markowa residents, “who still cherish the memory of their murdered neighbors.”

How 1 Man Faced Death: A Richie Fernando Story

Richie Fernando was a young Filipino Jesuit missionary in Cambodia. He was sent to Cambodia before his priesthood. There, he worked as a teacher in a technical school for the handicapped. In the school, people who were disabled, most especially landmine victims, learned skills which help them earn a living. Richie loved his students in Cambodia and allowed them to share with him their stories.

Among Richie’s students was Sarom, a sixteen-year-old boy who was a victim of a landmine. He wanted to finish his studies there but he was asked to leave by the school authorities for his disruptive attitude. According to Richie, Sarom was tricky but he still had a place for him in his heart.

On October 17, 1996, Sarom came to the school for a meeting. Angered, he suddenly he reached into a bag he was carrying, pulled out a grenade, and began to move towards a classroom full of students; the windows of the room were barred, leaving the students no escape. Richie Fernando came up behind Sarom and grabbed him. Sarom tried to let Richie go, but the missionary held on to Sarom. Sarom accidentally dropped the grenade behind Richie, and in a flash, Richie was dead. The missionary had protected Sarom and the other students from the violence that was about to come.

Four days before he died, Richie wrote to a friend in the Philippines and it reads:

“I know where my heart is, It is with Jesus Christ, who gave his all for the poor, the sick, the orphan ...I am confident that God never forgets his people: our disabled brothers and sisters. And I am glad that God has been using me to make sure that our brothers and sisters know this fact. I am convinced that this is my vocation.”

Shocked by what he had caused, Sarom sat in his jail cell and mourned too. In March 1997, Mr. and Mrs. Fernando wrote to Cambodia's King Sihanouk, asking for pardon for Sarom; somehow, someone had to stop the violence. Sarom had not wanted to kill Richie. “Richie ate rice with me,” he said. “He was my friend.”