Pampanga’s priests and pastors

JOSE “Joe” Luna Castro, the late newspaper editor who led the rise of The Manila Times to the pinnacle of print journalism and is considered by many as the father of modern Philippines journalism, originally set out to be a Methodist pastor. As someone raised in Sta. Teresita Dos, one of the poorest barrios in then-feudal Lubao, Pampanga, even that modest ambition seemed out of reach for him. But Castro had a rare gift, and I will use his own words to describe it: one who can use words like a sledgehammer. He was trained at a theology school in preparation for pastorship, but soon enough, he was in front of a typewriter instead of a pulpit. He then got his master’s degree at Syracuse University in New York, where another Joe — United States President Joe Biden — was trained in law. Syracuse had Methodist roots.

Had Castro opted for a life of preaching instead of a life of elegant writing and crisp, precise editing, his would not have been the only great loss to Philippine journalism. His brother-in-law Crispulo “Jun” Icban Jr., one of the youngest editors to lead the Philippine Collegian — and there is no need to list his other achievements here — would not have joined the profession either. The Icbans, also from Lubao, were more steeped in the Methodist tradition than the Castros. In fact, one of the biggest Methodist churches in Pampanga, specifically in Apalit, is named for Crispulo Icban Sr., a Methodist pastor known for his intelligence and breadth of literacy. (It runs in the family; Joe’s wife and Jun’s sister was a professor of English literature at the University of the East.)

Around the time that Castro was presiding over the glory days of The Manila Times came the Vatican’s decision to name the first Filipino cardinal, the first Filipino prince of the Catholic Church. It’s an anointment Castro celebrated, even with his unwavering, unflagging Methodist heart. The reason? Rufino Cardinal Santos was born and raised in Guagua, a neighboring town of Lubao. Castro’s cosmopolitan public persona was a façade. Deep down, he was clannish and took pride in the achievements of those from his community. His key people at The Times — Icban, Manuel Salak, Bernie de Leon, Gani Yambot, Dick Pascual — had two common denominators: their language skills and Kapampangan origins. Even E. Aguilar Cruz, the highly regarded editor of The Times’ afternoon publication, the Daily Mirror, was Castro’s high school batchmate.

Guagua — which is actually a Chinese word — was known for two things in the 20th century. It was a major trading post in the province’s west (Guagua’s public market is, up to now, the de facto public market of Lubao), from where the Puyats and other 20th-century names in Philippine business (bookstores, book publishing) came from, and it sent more men to the priesthood than any other Philippine town. Their sheer numbers are probably behind this Church verity. The Caloocan-based Camanava bishopric, once headed by the outspoken Bishop Teodoro “Ted” Bacani of San Antonio, Guagua, is now held by one who speaks courageously and consistently against corruption and abuse of power: Bishop Pablo Virgilio David of Betis, Guagua. And it’s definitely not a fluke of geography that the first Filipino cardinal was born and raised in Guagua.

What about the nondenominational churches, those outside the ambit of the Roman Catholic Church and the mainline Protestant churches like the Methodist church? There is one word to describe the involvement of pastors with strong Kapampangan ties in those churches: “controversial.” That description is probably an understatement or the understatement of the year. Just two names would validate it: Pastor Apollo Quiboloy, whose parents were from Lubao, and the late Bro. Eliseo “Eli” Soriano, who grew up in the province.

Soriano founded the Members Church of God International (MCGI), which is based in Apalit, the same town where the elder Icban preached to his Methodist flock in an earlier era. But Soriano — whose combative preaching, claim to Biblical certainties and disdain for other Christian groups, including the Catholic Church, generated a substantial number of near-to-fanatical believers — needed no physical location to reach his flock. His long-running television show “Ang Dating Daan,” where anything about the Bible and faith can be asked, gave the impression — especially his followers — that, indeed, Soriano and his church were the only repository of Biblical wisdom and represented the true and only Church.

The financial muscle of his MCGI was such that after the mainstream media stopped hosting his bloc-time programs, Soriano, through his ex-broadcasternephew Daniel Razon, launched UNTV, a television station that was made the permanent home of “Ang Dating Daan.” His success, however, inflamed, not reined in, the verbal abuse of other religious groups and other preachers, which resulted in his indictment — and subsequent conviction — for two cases of libel, one of which was upheld by the Supreme Court.

After the libel conviction came an arrest order based on a rape complaint filed against him by a former follower, Daniel Veridiano.

The Supreme Court said he fled to Brazil in 2015. “His flight to another country manifests his intention to escape,” said the high court, and to be outside of the reach of the country’s judicial processes. In February 2021, MGCI announced the death of Presiding Minister and Overall Servant Eliseo Soriano in Brazil at age 73.

If Soriano preferred non-exalted titles such as “Presiding Minister” or the unpretentious “Overall Servant,” that was not the case for

Quiboloy, inarguably the most controversial pastor — and also the religious leader with the most criminal indictments — of contemporary times. His followers call him the “Appointed Son of God.” Former followers of Quiboloy’s Davao City-based Kingdom of Jesus Christ who testified before US federal authorities said the pastor was also called by other grand names such as “The Third Adam” or “The Messiah to the Gentiles.”

No matter. The bearer of the heavenly-sounding “Appointed Son of God” is scheduled to face the very earthly and deadly serious business of defending himself starting next month. On March 5, he will have to testify before the Philippine Senate to answer charges that he abused his followers. Later in the month, a central district court in California will start the trial of Quiboloy and his associates, who had been indicted by a federal grand jury for “conspiracy to engage in sex trafficking by force, fraud and coercion, sex trafficking of children marriage fraud.” The list of charges is so long that, if proven, it’s enough for Quiboloy to spend the rest of his life in prison.

He and two other associates have been on the FBI’s Most Wanted List. That the self-proclaimed “Son of God” is in trouble is probably the understatement of the year. Oh, the NTC has slapped an indefinite suspension on his SMNI channel, the flagship of his media empire.