FAITH in ACTION

In Philippine lockdown, priests bring church to the community.

Catholic priest Eduardo “Ponpon” Vasquez has worn a hazmat suit more than a vestment this past month.

His parish in the populous Caloocan area of Manila has been eerily quiet in the seven weeks since the government put half of the country’s population on a strict lockdown to try to curb coronavirus infections.

Public gatherings, schools, transport services and non-essential work have all been halted, including the work of the church.

Priests in the predominantly Roman Catholic country have had to be creative in finding ways to keep the faithful engaged.

Most have resorted to streaming online masses while others have set up pews outside churches. Some have printed pictures of parishioners and displayed them inside their closed chapels.

But for Father Eduardo, the physical presence of the church is more important now than ever.

These days, he wears his stole and oblate cross over a blue hazmat suit with a bottle of holy water in one hand and alcohol spray in the other as he enters some of the poorest areas of his community to bring relief, both literal and spiritual.

“The situation of many Filipinos these days is pitiful. Lockdown is not the same for everyone,” he said.

“It is easier for the rich who could take this break from work. But for some of the poor, the lockdown is equivalent to death.”

This was almost true for Michael Juarez, 42, a scrap dealer whose cart filled with prized pickings and relief goods was impounded by local officials, who said he was violating rules of the lockdown.

He has since been sleeping outside on a sidewalk, hungry and ashamed of returning home to his family empty handed.

On a recent night when Father Eduardo and his team were handing out relief goods to the homeless, Juarez became tearful as he told the priest his story.

“More than physical hunger, they have spiritual hunger,” the priest said.

“These are the abandoned. The poorest of the poor. They are scared but when they hear that I am a priest, their face lights up as if they have found a friend.”

The relief work varies daily but most depends on requests that are posted through a Facebook chat group with community leaders.

Informal workers have no income or savings, and are reliant on handouts. Many ask for food and face masks. But there are communities that ask only for spiritual blessings — for the dead, for their ashes, for the sick, or even the streets.

To Father Eduardo, the coronavirus pandemic is more than a fight against a disease.

“It’s a spiritual battle,” he said. “And we need to hold on to our faith to survive this.”

“It’s a spiritual battle. And we need to hold on to our faith to survive this”

FATHER EDUARDO VASQUEZ

RIGHT Father Eduardo talks to homeless people living outside closed shops in Caloocan. Father Eduardo live-streams a workshop on how to make organic fertiliser, to encourage people to take up gardening at their homes, outside Our Lady of Grace Parish.

ABOVE Father Eduardo disinfects his bottle of holy water, among other items, as a safety measure to protect himself against the coronavirus. RIGHT Father Rey Amancio and Father Eduardo Vasquez put on their reusable hazmat suits as they prepare to go outside to meet residents and parishioners in Caloocan. LEFT Father Eduardo Vasquez dons personal protective equipment as he prepares to go outside, at Our Lady of Grace Parish in Caloocan, Metro Manila.

The altar of Our Lady of Grace Parish is bare amid the prohibition of religious gatherings during the government-imposed lockdown to contain the coronavirus disease in the Manila area.

Father Eduardo and Father Rey say prayers during a wake where attendees wear face masks in a funeral chapel in Caloocan.