UNANSWERED QUESTIONS (SAF 44)

I couldn't explain how I felt as I saw the breaking news on television about the encounter in Maguindanao that resulted in the massacre of 44 members of the elite Special Action Force of the Philippine National Police. I was just as shocked as everyone else.

Just like the little girl who asked the Pope, "Why do innocent children have to suffer?", I ask similar questions now. Why should there be innocent victims?   Why do those who have less in life always suffer?

Why do these men in uniform (mostly breadwinners with meager salaries), who risk lives supporting their families, have to experience death in such an inhumane manner in the hands of the enemy? In addition to that, reports of mutilated bodies that resulted from this ruthless killing added insult to injury.

Why do these things have to happen? How do you tell a child that his daddy will no longer be coming home? I know I will never get answers to my questions. Even the Pope did not have an answer to the little girl's query. But I will keep on asking anyway.

It was such a pitiful sight as the flag-draped caskets bearing the bodies of the slain heroes disembarked from the plane at Villamor Air Base. If the pain was too much for me, what more for their families? No word will ever be enough to ease their grief. I assume there was not a dry eye in Villamor Air Base that day, along with those glued to their television sets anxiously awaiting the return of the fallen heroes. Surely, the government will provide financial assistance and posthumous promotions, but is that enough? These can never compensate for the loss of their loved ones.

Men in uniform are trained to be tough. They are not supposed to cry. Thus, it was so heartbreaking to see them standing erect, with tears streaming down their cheeks as they paid respect to their fallen comrades, both at the arrival ceremony in Villamor Air Base and at the necrological rites in Camp Bagong Diwa. Crying is not a sign of weakness, nor does it make you less of a man. I admire men who never hide their tears.

Who really was to blame for this unfortunate incident? Pointing fingers is the name of the game. The victims' families cry out for justice. Maybe it would have been better if those responsible would be men enough to admit they erred in giving orders. They owe the victims' families an apology. Certainly, it would not take away the pain, but at least it would be lessened to a certain extent. Real men admit their mistakes. But somehow, hoping for this seems next to impossibility.

Soon the SAF 44 will be forgotten and all these will be just a memory, but their heroic deeds will live on in the hearts of every Filipino. After all, as SAF members so aptly expressed, " A black beret is not issued, it is earned." The SAF 44 died as heroes, and will forever be.

As far as my questions are concerned, they will remain unanswered.

But not for the SAF 44, for in that celestial place where they are now, all the answers to their questions have been provided by the ONE who knows it all.

LESSONS FROM POPE FRANCIS' VISIT

Almost everyone has shared his/her experience of a personal encounter with Pope Francis, except probably me.

For how can I, when I was not blessed enough to see him in person despite four unsuccessful attempts? I didn't take this lightly either. All throughout the duration of his five day visit, I had been crying non-stop as a result of this.

I kept asking myself why? How come others were able to see him, while I did not? I could only blame myself. Maybe I didn't try hard enough. Maybe I acceded to my companions' decision to just give up. I'm not putting the blame on others though.

On our first attempt, we encountered closed roads and heavy traffic so we decided to turn back. On our second attempt, we managed to find a parking area near Harrison Plaza. We walked several blocks to go near the Apostolic Nunciature. I was standing with the crowd waiting for the Pope's entourage when it suddenly rained. I didn't leave my post where I thought I would have a good view of the Pope. After waiting for about a couple of hours, we heard the sirens of the vehicles escorting the Pope. I was so excited, but when he passed, I missed the chance to see him because he was riding his black Volkswagen instead of the pope mobile.

On our third attempt, again we decided to turn back because our vehicle couldn't pass thru the blocked roads. Our final try would have been on the morning of his departure. I decided not to sleep anymore since we agreed to leave at 3:00 a.m. But again, at the last minute the plan was cancelled.

I then thought of going by myself, but I did not know which road to take. I was even willing to walk from my place in Makati to Taft Avenue. I was so disappointed that I couldn't stop crying. I kept saying sorry to Jesus for not being able to see Him (as personified by the Pope). I felt this heaviness in my heart, and I pictured Jesus asking me; "Why did you  not come to see me? Why did you not welcome me? I came here for you because I know you couldn't go to me, but you were not there for me".

When the time comes that I would be face to face with Jesus, I wouldn't have the answers to his questions. On second thought, yes, I probably would. My answer, plain and simple would be, because I did not try hard enough. Maybe Jesus was disappointed with me as well. I don't blame him. I shout to the world that I love him, yet I did not welcome him when he came to see me.That really broke my heart.

I kept consoling myself that everything happens for a reason, and that he wouldn't have allowed this to happen if he didn't have an explanation. Up to now, I am still in the dark as to what the reason might have been. Maybe he didn't want me to get sick from the rain, or be pushed and shoved if I attempted to squeeze myself into the thick crowd. I don't want to speculate. Although I find comfort when priests say that even those watching on television would be equally blessed, still that is not enough for me.


In my heart, I know Jesus is not mad at me because he knew I attempted but failed. I even "lent" my guardian angel to the Pope. When I heard the news that Vatican received intelligence reports that there were death threats against his life, I "talked" to my guardian angel and told him that it is perfectly alright if he leaves me for five days so he can join the other angels protecting the Pope.

I know Jesus does not really mind because his love for me is so great, but why do I still feel this way? I guess I would have to live with this guilt for the rest of my life.

Despite this unfortunate turn of events, I learned a lot from the Pope. Just like Mother Teresa, his most outstanding quality is compassion for the poor. This was evidenced by his willingness to push thru with his trip to Tacloban despite the impending danger of the storm, all because he wanted to be with the typhoon victims. I would like to believe that what happened in Tacloban was providential. Maybe God made Pope Francis experience what the victims went through, albeit of a lesser magnitude.

Humility is another outstanding trait. It was such a humbling experience to see the Pope saying mass amid the rain wearing only a raincoat, and  carrying his own bag on his flight back to the Vatican.That would put a lot of government officials to shame. The enormous love he has on his flock, most especially us Filipinos, was clearly manifested when he risked coming here despite warnings from his Vatican security that there would be assassination attempts on his life while he is here, as evidenced by intelligence reports. He is very well aware of the danger that he makes it a point to request people to pray for him. He even said he prayed to Jesus before he left Vatican that should he die in the Philippines, to make it quick so he wouldn't feel the pain.

We are truly blessed to have Jesus' representative in the person of Pope Francis. Every move he makes, every statement he delivers move me to tears. There is such a magnificent aura that exudes from his being. We are fortunate to have experienced a personal encounter with a future saint.