Should Filipinos expect more from their bishops?
Are Catholics on the ground in the Philippines expecting more from their bishops? Once in a while, it might serve church leaders well to hear what the people whisper among themselves.
Each bishop is absolutely autonomous in his diocese — that’s a given fact. However, for good reason, seniority, utmost courtesy or hierarchical diplomacy appear to mitigate the flow of the most candid information within the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of the Philippines (CBCP) as a group and among the individual bishops themselves. It’s here that I find the significance of this article.
When clerical prudence is overestimated or when episcopal silence is preferred so as not to antagonize anyone, only two dozen or so bishops go out full force to publicly denounce what is wrong.
When the UniTeam alliance of Marcos Jr, the tyrant’s son, put up a tent that partially blocked the Ninoy Aquino monument during a campaign rally at the Tarlac City Plazuela on April 2, it was only CBCP president, Bishop Pablo Virgilio David, who reacted, saying that such an act showed a complete lack of respect and was a “desecration” of the slain hero’s statue.
The majority of the 120 active bishops in the Philippines think, perhaps, that the CBCP’s collective voice is enough, that individually they should not be suspected of getting involved in politics. Or maybe they choose to be the voice of the voiceless in a spiritual way without screaming in order to be heard.
They advocate the idea that, yes, the Church is imminent, rooted in time and space, but she is also transcendent, and that the Church “cannot marry this age or any historical era” — paraphrasing Fulton J. Sheen — “or else the Church will become a widow in the next.”
The good bishop read the signs of the times as he personally witnessed the widespread abuses Filipinos suffered at the hands of merciless Spanish soldiers, guardia civil and other fat-headed functionaries
In 1579, the Apostolic Succession (from the Apostles) reached Philippine shores through Manila Diocese. The first bishop, Fray Domingo de Salazar, OP, was both the historical and theological chain of that succession.
The first conflict between the budding Filipino Church and political state took place in 1581, precisely when, upon his arrival, Bishop Salazar exerted his ecclesiastical authority, his sense of justice, and his paternal charity to defend the rights of the indigenous people against the authoritarian rule of the Spanish conquerors.
Spain, the most powerful political entity at that time, saw some cultures as “second-class civilizations” and, due to this disrespect of the natives, Bishop Salazar was troubled, deeply troubled. The good bishop read the signs of the times as he personally witnessed the widespread abuses Filipinos suffered at the hands of merciless Spanish soldiers, guardia civil and other fat-headed functionaries.
In order to address the problems, he convened a synod of the clergy, known in Philippine history as the First Manila Synod of 1582. He drew a dividing line in the sand and pointed out to the arrogant Spanish functionaries the limit of their political authority, and that limit is characterized by social justice for the less privileged.
His efforts and those of other missionaries tempered the ruthlessness that often marred the Spanish governance of the natives.
In his 1981 pastoral visit to the Philippines, Pope John Paul II said that the first bishop of the Philippines “preached the Good News not only to the people of these islands but also to his compatriots, in order to persuade them that the Lord’s Gospel means justice and not slavery for the people they had come to colonize.”
In 1971, the World Synod of Bishops dared to say: “Action in behalf of justice and participation in the transformation of the world fully appears to us as a constitutive dimension of the preaching of the Gospel.”
Constitutive dimension means a substantial link between the prophetic and kingly (shepherding) functions.
Of course, the Synod didn’t want to confuse the Christian world that the growth of the Kingdom of God or Civitate Dei was the same as human progress in the City of Man. Accordingly, the Synod made two alterations in the draft of the paragraph in question. One, the term “action” (actio in Latin, praxis in Greek) for justice replaced the original and more powerful “struggle” (pugna in Latin, le combat in French).
But the bishops were made aware of their social responsibility and that there is a social mission in prophetic function. The Church was convinced more than ever that she needed to get involved, similar to what Jesus Christ did in his time. Jesus “took pity on them because they were like sheep without a shepherd, and he set himself to teach them at length” (Mark 6:34); he “healed the sick” (Mt 14:14), and fed the hungry with fish and bread.
Some of them thought that the successor would be someone who was pastorally experienced who should not be cowed into silence by clear and present dangers
When the Metropolitan Archdiocese of Manila was declared sede vacante in 2020 after Cardinal Luis Antonio Tagle was called by Pope Francis to be the prefect of the Congregation for the Evangelization of Peoples in Rome, I remember entering into lively discussions with certain members of the clergy and academia. Who will be the next archbishop of Manila?
Some of them thought that the successor would be someone who was pastorally experienced who should not be cowed into silence by clear and present dangers — like Cardinal Sin, who confronted the Marcos dictatorship and with Cebu Archbishop Cardinal Vidal led the EDSA Revolution of 1986.
Others thought of someone holy like Teofilo Camomot of Carcar (1914-88), Alfredo Versoza of Lipa (1877-1950) or Alfredo Obviar of Lucena (1889-1978). A theologian-communicator like Cardinal Tagle, a canon lawyer like Bishop Antonio Tobias, pastoral person like Archbishop Jose Palma of Cebu, and brave and holy like Archbishop Oscar Romero and Dominican Bishop Salazar in one would be the best, they believed.
“We need a brave prophet,” said Father Danny Pilario, dean of St. Vincent’s School of Theology in Manila, “a good shepherd not only with the ‘smell of his sheep’ but one who also protects them when the wolves begin to eat and kill his flock.”
The people on the ground unanimously agreed that the next archbishop must be a man of brave heart for tough times and shouldn’t “consciously underplay his powerful position as head of the most influential diocese in the country.”
On June 24, 2021, the ninth Filipino cardinal, Jose Advincula, was installed archbishop of Manila at the Manila Cathedral. He promised he would ditch the eminent semblance of a prince, indicating that “the scarlet of a cardinal’s robe, which is the color of blood, can for a worldly spirit become the color of a secular eminence.” No, it cannot be; it should not be, he said.
On that special occasion, Cardinal Advincula had a chance to explain the roles of a cardinal: Servire, audire, renovare — “to serve, listen and renew.” He concluded by saying that “the cardinal must not only profess that he will serve, but he must always be ready to serve and even to suffer for the sake of those he serves, for that is the essence of a true servant.”
A true servant leader is uniquely responsible for using his authority and resources (spiritual and material) to make this world a better place than before.
Recently, I went around Manila and heard them say that they are still waiting. Maybe, just maybe, the Catholics on the ground are expecting more from their bishops.
* Jose Mario Bautista Maximiano is the author of ‘Pope Francis, The Catholic Bishop, And the Priest’ (Claretian, 2014), named the “2015 Best Book in Theology” by the Cardinal Sin Catholic Book Awards and the Catholic Mass Media Awards in the Philippines. The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official editorial position of UCA News.
