Easter came on Holy Monday
For the first time, my feet led me to the chapel of Padre Pio in Eastwood and I found myself celebrating Easter on Holy Monday.
On that day, my plane landed in Manila at 7:40 a.m. from Legazpi City. I had been awake since 3 a.m., waiting for the driver who would bring me to the airport, which was more than an hour away from the convent where I was staying. The day before, I delivered an inspirational message to the Grade 12 graduating class of the Divine Healer Academy of Sorsogon, a mission school in Cabid-an, Sorsogon that provides free education to 365 poor and intelligent students.
For days straight, I lacked sleep. I arrived home dead tired. A quick hot shower hastened my desire to hit the sack. Then off to dreamland.
By 2 p.m., I woke up with the thought of going to Eastwood, for no particular reason. I booked a Grab. The heavy traffic on EDSA did not dampen my desire to continue my trip. I had no itinerary in mind. Maybe I would have lunch in a restaurant. I made it to Eastwood but I did not enter the mall.
Instead, my feet brought me to a tricycle station. And the kind driver brought me to a corner street that was near the Padre Pio center that has its own chapel, praying nooks, an expansive Stations of the Cross area, a store that sells religious items, among others. The center, manned by 70 gentle and soft-spoken people, is approximately 2,000 sq. m., with its own multi-level parking space.
The side entrance of the Padre Pio chapel revealed a long plant box with steel grills. Looped around the grills are thousands of rosaries left by the devotees. Their pleas and petitions to God are made compelling and potent by the thickness of the rosaries in all colors that hung atop each other.
The land for the Padre Pio center in Eastwood, according to Mona Rodriguez-Ramos, was donated by her father Ramon Rodriguez, a businessman. Her father helped build the center in 1983. It started small, with only a place for devotees to hold or kiss the brown glove relic of Padre Pio. Ramon shared a devotion to Padre Pio with his late wife Digna.
The intensity of Ramon’s devotion to Padre Pio surfaced when he went blind after an optic nerve popped when his blood pressure escalated. “My father was healed of blindness through his devotion to Padre Pio. He prayed on his own, privately, and before the 30th day of his novena to Padre Pio, he could already see,” Mona said. Because of that miracle, Ramon donated a piece of land where a center was constructed so the devotion to Padre Pio could be propagated.
The Joyful Mystery was being prayed when I entered the chapel. The chapel was plain and of simple concrete, rectangular in shape, low-ceilinged. The throng of people who came that day carried with them invisible heart-shaped devotions that could only be seen by God. People inside the chapel would read signs that would remind them to keep silent or to behave accordingly. And for women who came in shorts or sleeveless shirts, a sarong was ready from the caring lay ladies of the chapel.
After praying the rosary, I joined the crowd inside the holy ground where the devotees lighted candles. A giant tree was on the side. Instead of flowers, the tree was profuse with thousands and thousands of colorful rosaries hung on the branches, on the tree’s protruding roots. Each rosary was for a prayer said or an answered prayer. I was told that devotees of Padre Pio come with a rosary in hand. (On a Sunday, close to 10,000 devotees flock to the center the whole day.) After praying the rosary in the chapel, the same rosary is hung around the vicinity of the chapel — in the plant boxes, on the tree, around the stalks of the plants around. There are rosaries that are strewn from the streetlamps that illuminate the ground where devotees do their Stations of the Cross. I’m sure, If I searched enough, I would find a rosary or two in the beautifully tiled, well-lighted, freshsmelling and very clean men’s toilet of the Padre Pio chapel.
*** At 5:34 p.m., the Holy Monday Mass began, officiated by, according to the commentator, Fr. Orly Sapuay. I took the last pew.
The Gospel reading was taken from John 12:1-11 and it talked about Mary Magdalene anointing the feet of Jesus with expensive perfumed oil, as if preparing Jesus for his burial. Judas Iscariot questioned this act, “Why was this oil not sold for 300 days’ wages and given to the poor.”
“But the truth is,” said the charismatic Fr. Orly in his homily, “Judas had no empathy for the poor. He was a thief who stole the contributions of the people. He was the treasurer of the apostles and he stole money. He wanted to sell the perfume because he wanted to steal the profit.”
According to Fr. Orly, “The greatest sin is not doing bad things. It is doing good things for the wrong reason — because by doing so you glorify yourself.” Dishonesty and insincerity are the spawning ground of the devil. “Because the devil will always encourage you to be dishonest, to be insincere. The devil will always encourage you to be good for the wrong reason.”
He ended his homily by telling a story of the carpenter who
was about to retire. Before retirement, a rich man approached the carpenter to build him (the businessman) a house. The carpenter, thinking that it was the last house he would build, thought of scrimping on the materials so he could pocket some money. He used substandard materials. As expected, it was a beautiful house — at least in appearance — that the carpenter made. When the carpenter turned over the house to the rich man, the rich man was delighted with what he saw. He embraced the carpenter and said with all sincerity, “You labored hard enough all your life. I had this house built not for me but for you. This is my retirement gift to you.” And the carpenter spent more than what he pocketed in repairing the house all his life.
On two silent and brief occasions during the Liturgy of the Eucharist, the quiescence in the chapel was pierced by the electronic organ playing “O Come, All Ye Faithful.” Many associate that song with Christmas. That moment, I knew Easter had come. Easter, in Tagalog, by the way, is Pasko ng Pagkabuhay.
The Mass had ended but the people remained seated. Then one by one, they formed two lines. The newbie in me did not know what was happening. I just joined the queue to the altar. In my silence, I was singing in my head: “O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant…” It was only Holy Monday but I was already celebrating Easter Sunday in my heart. That moment was a resurrection of faith. There, by the altar, the lay ministers anointed the holy oil on each of the believer’s forehead and palms. “Through the intercession of the Blessed Mother and Padre Pio, God will hear all your prayers,” a lay minister whispered to me. The oil was warm when it was left on my forehead and palms. The lay minister’s voice was soft, certain. In it I heard the voice of God.
On Holy Monday, at the Padre Pio center in Eastwood, I learned anew that Jesus is always with us. So is Judas. But Easter Sunday is here — the resurrection of faith is observed and celebrated. Good always triumphs in the end.
Happy Easter!
(For your new beginnings, e-mail me at bumbaki@yahoo.com.)