[Editor’s note: The writer reflects on and re-shares a Simbang Gabi experience she had three years ago that continues to guide her attendance to the mass celebration every year.]
Do you recall a priest’s homily such that its effect carries beyond 24 hours? The prior mornings on the genealogy of Jesus resonated with folks that it became an early dawn conversation amongst musicians about who Fr. Randy Odchigue is.
A choir member shared that he comes from Butuan in Mindanao and that Fr. Randy prepares for each of his homilies seriously. He also considers his intended audience: who they are, what social classes they belong to and how old they are. “No wonder he relates to all of us,” another said.
Folks declaim and proclaim their observations about his homilies, reflecting on the generosity of his spirit, his intellectual rigor, and the depths of his faith in seeing God’s works in others, but also his analysis and synthesis of the Biblical studies (which he casually interjects in conversations, as today’s Pope Linus’ teachings of taking care of the poor). I purposely use declaim and proclaim as folks seem to erupt with enthusiasm and smiles, sharing about his homilies.
It is only 4:10 a.m. and Fr. Randy is still inside the rectory, but we are having our own reflections of his homily about Jesus’ Genealogy of thief, betrayer, adulterer in his family tree, and the story of one’s name. Would your own family name spell out grace or collective names as Christians shout out joy?
While reflections in the pew happen, Hermie San Agustin busily lights all the altar candles and motions to folks to distribute the Worship Aid. It is now 4:15 a.m.
Choir members arrive. The violinist, the drummer, the flutist, the guitarist, the pianist, and the cantor all walk in, at a precise sequence and timing.
Mike Zuniga removes the piano cover and gets it ready for the Allan Sims, the pianist. He sets up the microphones for the choir.
From once an empty church of quiet, to an increasing volume of voices in action, eagerly waiting for Mass to begin.
This is not a concert, I told myself, yet Fr. Randy is treated as if a rock star.
At 4:45 a.m., all seats are taken. Folks squeeze in, shoulder to shoulder, to make way for more parishioners.
By 5 a.m., the balcony is full.
At that precise time, Fr. Camilo Pacanza primes us: “What are you coming to Simbang Gabi for?” He waits, he pauses, and like the Socratic method of teaching, “Why do you sacrifice to get up every morning, braving the cold mornings? Or are you just crazy?” Jokes get folks to pay attention.
“What are you looking for, “ he continues. “Bakit kayo nagpupuyat?” Not getting any, he leaves us with: “Ang Simbang Gabi ay naglalagay sa atin sa…” I got lost in deep Tagalog and waited for his English translation, “Simbang Gabi puts us on the road of our salvation, to meet our Savior on Christmas.”
To me, it helps prepare my heart and inner self that on the magic day of the 24th, I could not contain my tears of joy — it just flows, and it feels as if I am uplifted to the heavens, joining in to sing with the music of Hiroshima’s A Thousand Cranes, but contemporaneously, singing “Halina, Jesus, Halina” and “Hosanna, Hosanna.”
With barely two feet of space separating the flutist, the violinist and the pianist, the three of them do not seem to mind and each one renegotiates their body spaces, one contorting while another stretches, to give room to the other.
Pete Avendaño points to two verses in the music sheet that he wants the pianist to play, the pianist alerts the guitarist, then, the violinist and flutist, and all start on cue, as Pete raises one or both of his hands.
They begin as a disciplined, well-oiled engine, all 30 in harmony, in support of and with a high note of fidelity, positivity and a selfless attitude of grace to all.
By the time Fr. Randy takes the microphone, everyone exhales a bit, knowing they too will be primed, since his homily of 24 hours ago and folks are still doing their own early dawn reflections on it. They want to piece it together for themselves.
He reminds us first that on Christmas, many songs are about longing and loneliness, “Ang Disyembre ko ay Malungkot” while folks sing along to a few verses.
“Love between families failed. Marriage is fractured if emotional needs are not met.” He quickly moves from life’s sad challenges, and then, his humor, this time, based on his linguistic knowledge of Tagalog, English and Cebuano. (When I got home, I shared with hubby who understood all three, what a joy!).
Ready for this at 5:30 a.m.?
We start out as asawa, meaning a couple in Tagalog. Asawa morphs into sawa, not just a removal of a letter, it is the flames of love extinguished to become sawa, aka bored, have had enough, becoming into awa.
The linguist will love Tagalog as the removal of two letters, a and s become awa, compassion for the children.
Wa Na, in Waray (hubby quickly says this is Cebuano meaning nothing na.).
“If the marital issues are not resolved, there is nothing there,” Wa Na, Fr. Randy continues but all are laughing, engaged and alert.
He said that the righteous Joseph (not self-righteous who condemn the mistakes of others, gloating over suffering, buti nga) did not gloat over the pregnant Mary, nor judged her. It would have been easy to destroy, but it is quite difficult to build, to nurture, to sustain.
He told us that Joseph’s example shows us what is positivity, how to focus on building a home for Mary and the child that is coming. Joseph did not focus on Mary being pregnant by another.
He interjects another joke here. He switches gears to when he led a marital encounter retreat: “Who wants to mother your husband?” Now, obviously no hands went up, he said, until this one brave woman did. He asked, “why did you raise your hand?” “Oh, I thought you said, who wants to smother your husband?” Smother is another word for strangle.
He then ended it with his travels to see the Golden Buddha, described by the locals as being once filled with plaster and mud. When they tried to move the statue, it was so heavy, they had to use a crane, but the plaster and mud came off to reveal the pure gold Buddha.
“Maybe that is how our relationships are, we will see the plaster and mud in others, but if you see beyond the plaster and mud, you will see gold. Now, do you know why you sacrifice for Simbang Gabi? God is Emmanuel, God is with us, but beyond that, God is in us. If we are willing to look beyond plaster/mud, maybe we will get a glimpse of the golden soul.”
A few years ago, I came to Simbang Gabi, offering permanent healing intentions for a family member with cancer, for the rehabilitation and rebuilding of homes, families, communities and provinces based on an ethos, wishing for an invisible social contract of caring, where institutions and resource-wealthy folks create job opportunities to sustain folks for the long-term, inclusive of all.
It is the essence of our collective global humanity at stake in the Philippines, for when and after we rebuild, the world together in helping out the Filipinos, would have created a better nation that what Typhoon Yolanda found in Leyte, Samar and Palawan.
“There is gold in every plaster and mud that we encounter in each of us. Something great lies beyond the immediate. There is something noble in us, when we do not give up on one another,” said Fr. Randy Odchigue in 2013.
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Prosy Abarquez-Delacruz, J.D. writes a weekly column for Asian Journal, called “Rhizomes.” She has been writing for AJ Press for 9 years now. She contributes to Balikbayan Magazine. Her training and experiences are in science, food technology, law and community volunteerism for 4 decades. She holds a B.S. degree from the University of the Philippines, a law degree from Whittier College School of Law in California and a certificate on 21st Century Leadership from Harvard’s Kennedy School of Government. She has been a participant in NVM Writing Workshops taught by Prof. Peter Bacho for 4 years and Prof. Russell Leong. She has travelled to France, Holland, Belgium, Japan, Mexico and 22 national parks in the US, in pursuit of her love for arts.