POPE Francis to Families at the Mall Of
Asia, Manila, January 16, 2015: “Do not lose the ability to dream.”
Allow
me, Holy Father, to try. Here goes mine.
I dream of a
Philippines where there is neither rich nor poor but only fellow Filipinos
living as brothers and sisters.
And because they
see themselves as family, they do not hesitate to share the wealth and
resources of the country as well as the responsibility of running it justly in
the manner of the early Christians “who shared everything in common” and
“distributed according to each one’s need” (Acts 4:32, 35).
I dream of every
Filipino being seen or judged not in terms of wealth or social status (a Tan?
an Ayala? a Gokongwei? a Zobel?) but in terms of character and a track record
of living out or not one’s faith or principles.
I dream of
Filipino fishermen, farmers, carpenters, construction and factory workers
sharing the same ability to buy the same meals and to live in the same
neighborhood with Filipino tycoons and powerful politicians.
I dream of
Filipino children not having to work even as children not because their parents
can afford it but because they ought not yet to. I dream of the words “abuse”,
“addiction”, “trafficking”, “prostitution” as being too alien to their minds to
understand or to their personal or social lives because no family, neighborhood
or community allows any. I dream of the Filipino young enjoying the same high
quality of living conditions, exercising the same rights and responsibilities
in education, arts, culture, entertainment, sports, and having the same access
to employment opportunities.
I dream of every
Filipino being able to say, “My family and I are prosperous and are proud about
it because our country has made it possible for us!”
I dream of the
phrase “going abroad” being totally incomprehensible to Filipinos because the
Philippines has truly become the archipelago of opportunity where work and
working conditions are tailor-made to the dignity of every worker and the needs
of his family. I dream of “service” becoming truly of fashion and pursued with
passion by businessmen, politicians, lawyers, doctors, nurses and other
Filipino professionals for whom “profit-orientation” is now the greatest insult
anyone can utter in their direction.
I dream of
“poor” in the Philippines becoming unknown as an economic or social status but
only as a spiritual and moral attitude, a way of living.
I dream of the
Roman Catholic Church becoming truly a transformative Church not so much by
force of teaching as by example.
I dream of the
Filipino hierarchy and clergy as foremost models of a transformed and
transforming Church. I dream of Filipino bishops, deacons and priests refusing
to talk about “communion”, “social justice”, “mercy” or “compassion” without
first walking it individually and collectively.
I dream that no
Filipino priest has to go abroad like my high school seminary spiritual
director who confessed he was looking for (financial) “security”. I dream that
no Filipino diocesan priest has to desire to go to the cities or bigger
parishes to afford a decent mode of transportation, medical insurance and
old-age security. Or, like some priests from Ground Zero of Yolanda refusing to
return to Leyte, to escape from extreme difficulties at home.
I dream that no
Filipino diocesan priest in the provinces struggles, often unsuccessfully, to
make ends meet while his brothers in the cities or urban centers make a career
of changing their car’s or SUV’s model year after year, and find it hard to
decide whether to go to Paris, Singapore, New York, Washington or Canberra this
year.
I dream that no
seriously ill diocesan priest in rural dioceses begs for contributions from his
family, friends or parishioners to pay for his medical expenses.
I dream that no
Filipino diocesan priest is classified as belonging to or serving a First,
Second, Third or Fourth Class diocese or parish. The reason? Because all
dioceses and religious orders in the Philippines have decided to go back to our
roots—the early Church. They have committed to truly practice “communion”
before talking about it, sharing human and material resources, and distributing
them to every diocese according to its need.
The final
episode of my dream: all dioceses and congregations of priests in the
Philippines strictly adhere to and live by what they call the “ACTS FOUR,
THIRTY TWO AND THIRTY FIVE CODE”. Sorry I can’t tell you what it means. It is
highly confidential. All they can disclose at the moment to the public are the
words: “We must do the walk first before the talk.”
By the way, my dream
has a twist. I wake up to the present dreadful reality.
But with a difference. It is the Sunday
of the Divine Child. As I face the Santo Niṅo, I revert to a dream state: the
Word becoming flesh.
