If you are reading this piece on the Sunday of Nov. 30, then let me express this wish to see you this afternoon in the prayer rally against corruption and for transparency, which will start with a Eucharistic celebration at the Basilica del Sto. Niño at 2:30 p.m. to be followed by a march going to Fuente Osmeña. Let our cry for honest government be heard for the sake of our children and our children’s children. It is a prayer rally since this is precisely what we are called to do: We pray and together knock the doors of heaven. One of our petitions is for God to touch the consciences of those alleged to have stolen from the national coffers. We also rally, and rallies are intended to raise our own consciousness of the issues. The two aspects, the prayer and the rally, go together.
It is coincidental but nonetheless significant that this prayer rally is done on the occasion of Bonifacio Day in our secular calendar and on the first Sunday of Advent which ushers a new liturgical year. My reflections will center on these coincidences.
A Filipino with a negligible knowledge of history may wonder why we celebrate the revolutionary’s birthdate and not the anniversary of his martyrdom which is May 10. The answer is that his death is clouded with mystery and it is a national embarrassment to remember it. For unlike Rizal, Bonifacio was mercilessly executed not by Spanish forces but by fellow revolutionaries. Until now, his bones have not been conclusively recovered almost 130 years after his death.
When I reflect on the circumstances of the death of the founder of the Katipunan, I often am moved to tears. For many of the lessons that should have been already imprinted in our hearts are in fact never learned and thus we keep repeating the mistakes. For one, even if the Magdiwang and Magdalo forces were facing a common enemy, they were not united. The two factions squabbled over who should lead the revolution. Personal ambitions became an obstacle to the establishment of a united front. Sounds familiar?
But it is not just the lack of unity that is often repeated in history. Many of the things that happened then have their own contemporary parallels like the allegations of cheating during the Tejeros convention and the subsequent refusal to acknowledge the results. The lack of due process in the death of Bonifacio and his brother and the abuses by the military who never even bothered to inform the widow Oryang where they buried Andres. Even worse, she who was understandably looking for her husband experienced detention for it. Indeed, we note with sadness that punishing the innocent is not new.
The lack of unity doomed the revolution to failure. Today, let the forces against corruption show unity. The message of the tearing of the cedula led by Bonifacio was “Tama na!” Our battle cry today is “Ikulong na yan!” And any ideological difference must be set aside for the sake of a common enemy which is corruption.
That this day of protest falls also on the beginning of the advent season is of equally symbolic significance. Etymologically, advent means coming. We are waiting for the coming of God.
But waiting is not passive, as if we are anticipating the coming of rains, which would pour down on us irrespective of what we do. We can also make God come into our lives, and into our country’s life.
The coming of God is not limited to piety, important though this is. But God is visiting us in our righteous outrage over the victimization of the poor as a result of ghost flood control projects. God is not manifested in a form of piety that does not lead us to search for justice and truth. Rather, God is coming when our collective consciousness has integrated our spirituality with our demand for transparency and justice most especially for the poor.
Kita kits!