Jesus In This Place

Today was supposed to be a “rest day” as far as the foundation’s activities go, so how come I’m tired at only 6:30 p.m.?

But it’s a good kind of “tired,” that kind of exhaustion that makes you want to pray a while, lie down and sleep, and then wake up bright and early tomorrow to do MORE of the same thing. :-)

This morning, the usual Saturday “feeding” was put off to tomorrow, to coincide with a medical mission scheduled on Sunday. Nevertheless, Kuya scheduled Mass today at San Roque on Agham Road – the huge squatter community in front of the Philippine Science High School – for the eternal rest of Elemar, one of the Delta streetkids we take care of, who was killed last week by a security guard’s pistol.

But first off; the Mass was a bit delayed because the priest and his “imported” congregation were waylaid by five filthy little street urchins, two of whom answer to the most shocking names a parent could ever give his child. Makes you wonder indeed what kind of person would actually give his or her child the nickname “Binabae,” and - good heavens – “Burat.” If you’re familiar with Filipino street lingo, the first means “male homosexual” – and its owner is a little girl! – and the second means, in popular usage, “bored.” As for its actual meaning…well, never mind. When I first met them – les affreux (“the terrible ones”, or the “little gangsters,” as Vince used to call them) – I was horrified that anyone would actually call them those names; or that they would actually call THEMSELVES by those names, and tried to find out their real birthnames were. Turns out that the boy’s real name is Nadir, and the girl is Ningning. Hmm. Poetic vivification, although their parents may not have realized it: nadir means the extreme state of adversity, the lowest point anyone can go, and ningning, in Tagalog, means the sparkle of a star. Darn it, I could write a novel about how Nadir is actually the living representation of the depths to which humanity can sink or how Ningning’s beautiful smile can light up the whole of Metro Manila, or how they come from a family of nine children – some of whom have been “sold,” at least one of whom has been taken, and another one killed, or how their mother cut off the little girl’s hair to make her look like a little boy or how she regularly beats the little boy, her youngest, and makes him sell rags on the street… But those are terrible, tragic stories for another time. Suffice it to say that they ALL needed a bath, which they all got eventually, and treatment for scabies i.e., galis-aso (I only know this now after looking it up; they hadn’t been visiting the Center for ages – and grrrr, I had Ascabiol in my car trunk). Especially poor Ningning; she had it all over, even in her ears. Galis-aso, indeed; some people treat their pets better than parents treat these children…

Anyway, to get to my point. Elemar, like many of the street children we know, actually HAD a home – not much of a dwelling place, really, because his family is dirt poor, but a shack in the middle of a forest of shanties. And yet he chose to live – only to eventually die a young death - in the streets. This morning, Mass was celebrated for him near his family’s house. Father Steve was good enough to go into the depths of the squatter community and celebrate the sacrament of the Holy Eucharist in that place, to bless Elemar and his family and to pray that his soul is back in its Creator’s keeping.

I’ve heard Mass in many places, in front of many different faces, but this was a relatively new experience. Disco music blared in the background; the street teenagers who kept Elemar company in life, as well as in death, had just awakened from their sleeping place under one of the funeral tents and did little to prepare for the celebration; Elemar’s father had gone off somewhere, and his little siblings – not to mention his own white coffin – were absolutely filthy. Flies were everywhere, since dog poo was everywhere; the heat was stifling; the place was dusty…

And yet. The realization came, like a bolt out of the blue sky above us that -

Amidst the smell of unwashed bodies, unclean hearts, unrepented lives, and unimaginable poverty, Jesus was in this place.

Above the din of the worldly noise and the distraction of ungodly sounds, Jesus was in this place.

I saw the flies, and the dung, and the dirt, and the dust; and then I saw His Body and Blood on the makeshift altar…Jesus was in this place.

I saw the remains of a child whose end had come all too soon, and the evidence of the brutality we creatures can wreak upon each other, and upon our Creator; and then I saw the hopeful, innocent smile of Elmer, Elemar’s younger brother…Jesus was in this place.

We are called to carry our light, the light that comes from His ever-burning flame, into the darkest corners of this world, to illuminate them with His love and set them ablaze. And yet, we realize that while we come as the bearers of the Lord’s light, we cast the glow into the darkness to find Jesus Himself, in His filthiest, smelliest, most broken, most unattractive, most desperate form, waiting for us…we find Jesus, in this place.

I was supposed to tell you about the rest of my “rest” day but I think I’ll stop here for now. :-)

May we be Jesus to all, may we see Jesus in all.

Peace and love be with you always.