Visita Iglesia ( A ghost story )


       Towns and cities in the Philippines that trace their beginnings to the Spanish regime followed a certain construction pattern:  churches were built close to cemeteries. In fact, there may still be ancient churches where the campo santo (cemetery) is right behind them or within the same stone wall, as in European countries of the Renaissance Period.

       A very good example of this type is the Paco Park which is   a walled -in, circular in shape park originally  envisioned as the burial place of well-off aristocratic Spanish families who resided in old Manila. The cemetery was built in the late 18th century and decades later,  a Roman Catholic chapel dedicated to St. Pancreatius was also constructed  within  its circular walls.  But interment in Paco Park ceased in 1912 and most of the descendants of those buried there have transferred the remains of their ancestors elsewhere. The cemetery was converted into a national park in 1966 and is  now listed as one of the most beautiful parks in the country

       Interred within the walls of some of our very old churches are the bones of religious people and prominent citizens. As a child in the late 40s, I remember how I shuddered at the sight of the sarcophagi of bishops and archbishops prominently located in the interior walls of the centuries old Jaro Cathedral in Iloilo City. However, this practice of entombing the dead inside churches has long been abolished; and the Archdiocese of Jaro must have had the remains transferred and sarcophagi’s removed from the walls and pillars  because the last time I visited the church (15 years ago) they were no longer there.

              While one can only surmise that perhaps tales of haunting by priests arise from such settings, it is an accepted fact that even monsignors do “come back” just like any ordinary mortal.  An old family friend – a no nonsense Spaniard (1881-1968) with a doctorate’s degree from Georgetown University affirms that ghost stories about priests have an element of truth in them. Lolo Chito (that’s how we called this ex-seminarian, educator, sportsman, lawyer and philanthropist)  said that as a boarder at the old Ateneo during pre-war days, he too had seen  an apparition in priestly robes coming out of a closed door and entering a solid wall.

A VISIT FROM FATHER IGNACIO

        CJ ( Cornelio J. ) arrived at Barrio Mantangingi  in Guimaras two days before the town fiesta. He had come from Manila where he was studying for the priesthood. Because he was uncertain if he would be allowed by his superiors to go home “Just for a  barrio fiesta”  his trip home was unannounced.

        From the pantalan (pier), CJ took the first public transport available, hoping to arrive at  his ancestral home on time to have breakfast with his mom- only to find out  that Tiya Rosa and her cook had gone to the poblacion (town proper)  to do some last minute marketing .  The old matriarch, the servants said,   was expecting “important”  guests -  among them a newly ordained priest who was coming over to  say mass and hear confession.

       Getting a priest to come over was truly a “big Deal” for the pious barrio folks. You see, their  parish church was located in the town proper, ten kilometers away.  And this was a problem since most of the residents were poor farmers and fisher folks  who did not have any means of transportation. The one-hour trek  across a stony, hilly terrain to the national road where one could catch a bus was too much for most people.  And so they looked forward to the arrival of a priest  with excited anticipation.

       CJ  learned  that Tiya Rosa had once again been chosen to be the hermana mayor for the year’s festivities  and that her duties included – among other things -  the  solicitation of funds  for the repair and beautification of the wooden, barn-like structure fondly referred to by the community as ang amon pinobre nga simbahan (  our church of and for the poor).  And so, instead of wasting his hours waiting for his mother to come home, the seminarian decided to go straight to the chapel and see what he could do to help. It was a hot summer day  but CJ had changed to comfortable clothes ; and protected  from the scorching sun by only an old buri hat, he braved the sixty minutes hike to the chapel.

       To CJ’s pleasant surprise, he found the old, almost dilapidated church standing proud and clean with its newly  white-washed walls. The interior was  a sight to behold -  the ancient pews  looked new as they “shined”  with freshly applied  glossy  varnish ,  the altar was all spruced up and ready for the fiesta mass. The transformation was so amazing, he could  only stare in appreciation for what his mother had done -   a delicate runner of venetian lace covered the entire length of the newly constructed marble altar where a pair of  tall bronze, tapers holding thick ornate candles stood like sentinels on both ends. Freshly cut field flowers in a profusion of colors and texture, all bunched together  in shiny brass vases lay at the foot of the statue of the Blessed Virgin and  there were palm trees inside giant ceramic jars every where!  Even the collection baskets were dolled up with pretty pink ruffles!

       CJ’s heart felt like bursting with pride and love for his aging mom. “Mother has outdone herself this time,”  he said to himself as he smilingly pulled out a rosary from his pocket.

       “Ang mama ko talaga, basta para sa simbahan, hindi napapagod.” he chuckled.  He knew how focused and indefatigable his mother was when it came to church activities.

       He was just finishing his prayers when he saw a priest enter through a side door by the altar. He was dressed in black habit and was so emaciated , he looked cadaverous. After the priest had genuflected before the  crucifix  at the altar, he turned to look at the young man. It was only then that CJ recognized his religion teacher in high school.

       The man in black smiled gently at him and raised his hand in benediction  toward CJs direction. The seminarian  bowed his head in acknowledgment of the blessing. The sight of his once robust teacher, now old and frail, praying before the altar of his barrio chapel so moved the young seminarian that he couldn’t  help the  tears that ran down his cheeks.  “My God, has it really been that long since I last saw Fr. Ignacio? How he has aged!

        It was warm inside the barn-chapel and so CJ decided to wait for Fr. Ignacio by the only gate to the entire barbed- wire enclosure that protected the lush flowering plants inside church yard from being eaten by wandering goats .  CJ wanted to hug the old priest and pepper him with questions; he wanted to tell him  how much he appreciated his coming to their town fiesta.  He also wanted to congratulate him for making good his promise that day at the airport.   “One day, son,  I’ll surprise you with a visit in your hometown. Promise.”

       But CJ waited in vain . Minutes later when  he decided to go back inside the chapel to check on the old priest, Fr. Ignacio was nowhere to be found. The visitor had seemingly disappeared without a trace.

       When he arrived at his mother’s house, he found her busy entertaining visitors, among them a young padre whom she promptly introduced  to her son.

        “Did you come with Fr. Ignacio, Padre? He was at the chapel a few hours ago.  ” CJ asked, his young face creasing with concern. He openly asked his mother why she had allowed the old priest to wander about by himself.

       “What did you say, son?” Tiya Rosa exclaimed, anxiety written all over her face. She went to him and felt  his temperature and pulse. “You must have stayed out in the sun too long.”

       CJ was startled by his mother’s reaction and told her so. When she told him the old priest had died three years ago, CJ  was flabbergasted. But he knew, without an iota of doubt, the good padre had come to visit him just as he had promised.

       FLASH BACK……

       For many years, Tiya Rosa had prayed long and hard for God to send them  a priest who won’t mind living among the poorest of the poor of her barrio.  God heard her prayers and touched the heart of her only child who was then a graduating senior in high school.  When CJ told her of his desire to be a priest and to live among the poorest of the poor,  she went into hysterics. She immediately suspected that his religion teacher/ father confessor had something to do with her son’s decision; she was furious with Fr. Ignacio.

       For months Tiya Rosa railed against Fate and shunned all church activities.“How could You possibly choose my only son and deprive me of grandchildren,” she angrily protested as she raised her fists to the heavens.  “What kind of a god are you?!”

       But God works in mysterious ways. It was Fr. Ignatio who came to her son’s aid when their boat capsized during a class excursion to a nearby lake.  Six months later, CJ nearly lost his life again. For some reason, the old priest lost his way back to the rectory after saying mass in a remote community that wet night and strayed into a half-deserted road where he chanced upon a  smoking wreckage. Fr. Ignatio barely had time to drag the unconscious pair from the mashed up car before it burst into flames. Apparently CJ had accompanied a classmate to go a-courting and were on the way home when the other boy lost control of his vehicle and smashed into a huge boulder by the roadside. Both were  injured, CJ more seriously. He was in a coma for three days because of head injuries.  But by the grace of God, both students survived the accident.

       In her gratitude to God for  sparing her son from imminent death, Tiya Rosa went through a complete transformation as she willingly bowed to God’s will. She  allowed her son to enter the seminary.

       And the years flew by.

       Meanwhile,  Father Ignacio went back to Spain where he succumbed to TB  three years later. Upon learning the sad news, Tiya Rosa  immediately wrote her son about it.  But  the letter apparently never reached CJ. And so he never knew of his mentor’s demise until…..until the beloved priest came back to visit him in his place of worship - a visita iglesia.

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