Pope Francis’ acts of humility and words of wisdom are reminiscent of Pope John Paul II’s similarly radical actions. Just as Saint John Paul II encouraged interreligious dialogue and the Second Vatican Council opened the doors of the Church to the laity and women and the youth, Pope Francis’ gestures of love and openness has inspired us all that as he is human like all of us, we are all invited to follow in his footsteps. Just as Jesus Himself washed the feet of his disciples, we are all invited to lead by service.
To see Pope Francis and hear him speak while he is in the country is something I was not about to miss. Volunteering to be part of the human barricade was an opportunity. We would be up front, just behind the policemen and the army appointed to stand along the SM Mall of Asia to keep the crowd from getting overexcited and getting hurt. The BCBP was to serve on SM Mall of Asia prior to the Pope’s Meeting with Families in the MOA Arena.
My family met with the other BCBP volunteers at 4:30 A.M. outside the Blue Sapphire Hotel where the West Lipa Chapter held their Saturday breakfast meetings. We boarded our rental bus and traveled to the empty lot along Seaside Boulevard, about three blocks away from the mall. When we arrived, the police from the Pasay City and Makati City Police Departments were already in uniform and having their breakfast out of Styrofoam containers. A small group of young cops were even musing to themselves, “Yeah, this is how cops have breakfast: On the floor!” They were sitting on the floor with their backs against a tall metallic electrical tower. Even at 7:30 in the morning, I could feel the joy bubbling in the air. The cops were undoubtedly exhausted from doing the same job the night before, but they cheerfully babbled among themselves and warmly welcomed us civilian volunteers as they gave us a rundown of our tasks and theirs and how we may call them for help should we need it.
Due to the approaching typhoon, the weather in Metro Manila was unusually chilly and windy. The sky was partly cloudy. The sun peeked through the clouds from time to time, but it didn’t roast us too long. Even if it did, our spirits were never dampened. We waited at our spot near the main entrance of the mall where the Pope was to pass, on his way to the Arena. We waited for ten hours. During which, the screen outside the Arena showed a live broadcast of the Pope’s activities: From his Welcome Address in Malacañang Palace to his Papal Mass in the Manila Cathedral in Intramuros.
Because the Manila Cathedral was mainly attended with the clergy, Pope Francis’ Homily was primarily an appeal to the local clergy to serve their respective congregations with love and service and humility. He encouraged the clergy to practice what they preach.
Somehow, that stirred something in me. It got me wondering what God was trying to tell me. How can I be a better member of the Catholic Church than by just singing in the church choir every Sunday? God was asking something more of me, and I wondered what is it about me that I have to change. God was making me look inward and reflect upon my weaknesses and know how many there are. These reflections continued as I waited five more hours after the Papal Mass.
As soon as the Mass was over, the people began to gather toward the steel barricades separating the walkway from the driveway. The police took their positions outside the barricade and the army took theirs on the other side of the barricade. We in the BCBP stood behind them. My father was worried that the crowd will push forward and squeeze us against the army guys and hurt all of us. I wasn’t afraid. The people who frequent the SM Mall of Asia were typically upper-middle and high class people who were educated and don’t need to be told what to do twice.
With two rows of people in front of me, I would still be too short to see the Pope clearly when his ride drives by, so the army guys offered to let me squeeze between them. Meanwhile, a policeman asked my younger sister to record a video of the Pope with his Samsung Galaxy because their orders were to face the crowd in case anybody does something stupid like climb over the barricade. Touched by the cop’s dedication for his job, my sister gladly obliged.
The crowd became thicker and we at the barricade were forced to stay on our feet for five hours lest we lose our spot. The energy went high up when the last hour passed and we eagerly waited for the screen to show the Pope coming our way. People began to scream with glee as the Pope’s entourage passed along the Nagtahan Bridge, then Taft Avenue, and finally EDSA. We watched him keep standing on his open-air Popemobile, fearless and joyful as he waved to the crowd.
The army and police officers were just as excited as we were. They weren’t fazed by fatigue. “Once I see him, it would be as if the sleepless nights were nothing,” they said.
The screaming became louder as the motorcade reached the end of EDSA and circled the rotunda to turn south toward the MOA Arena. “Hurry!” the army guys called to me and made room for me at the barricade. I wanted to scream along, but I was overwhelmed. He was coming. And soon, the white Ford truck with the simple fiberglass shield passed, carrying the Pope, clad in white, smiling and waving at us. He was in front of my eyes for exactly one second.
It was the most amazing experience. That one second was worth the ten hours of waiting outside the Mall of Asia. It didn’t even matter that I wasn’t able to attend the Meeting with the Families in the MOA Arena because tickets weren’t readily available to volunteers. What really mattered was that I got to see the Pope, and he was only ten feet away from me.
In the days that followed, I was left wondering what God was trying to tell me through Pope Francis. The Sunday Mass coincided perfectly with the Feast of the Santo Niño; the Gospel retold the narrative of Jesus rebuking his disciples for trying to send the children away. “Let the children come to me,” He said, “and do not prevent them. The Kingdom of God belongs to such as these.”
The Command Chaplain Father Rene told us about how he went with his family to Villamor Air Base to see the Pope as he traveled from the airport to the Papal Nunciature. “I went there neither in my military uniform nor in my clerical garments but as a civilian,” he said. “And just as I experienced my hairs standing on end when I saw Pope John Paul II in 1995 when I was a seminarian, I experienced the same with Pope Francis.” I was stunned when Father Rene mused about how, upon seeing Pope Francis, he’d wondered how he can change for the better.
As I pondered upon the Papal Visit’s slogan “We are all God’s children,” it came to me: I must cast aside the hardness in my heart and be less judgmental. I must come to God like a child and look upon my neighbor with trust and and not let my pride get in the way of my capacity for mercy and compassion. More importantly, I must refrain from my classist attitude. It’s making me a hypocrite and a slacktivist.
I’m not going to enumerate any more of my shortcomings; those are mine to identify and correct. But certainly, the Papal Visit has left a mark upon my heart. I hope the same is true for all.
To see Pope Francis and hear him speak while he is in the country is something I was not about to miss. Volunteering to be part of the human barricade was an opportunity. We would be up front, just behind the policemen and the army appointed to stand along the SM Mall of Asia to keep the crowd from getting overexcited and getting hurt. The BCBP was to serve on SM Mall of Asia prior to the Pope’s Meeting with Families in the MOA Arena.
My family met with the other BCBP volunteers at 4:30 A.M. outside the Blue Sapphire Hotel where the West Lipa Chapter held their Saturday breakfast meetings. We boarded our rental bus and traveled to the empty lot along Seaside Boulevard, about three blocks away from the mall. When we arrived, the police from the Pasay City and Makati City Police Departments were already in uniform and having their breakfast out of Styrofoam containers. A small group of young cops were even musing to themselves, “Yeah, this is how cops have breakfast: On the floor!” They were sitting on the floor with their backs against a tall metallic electrical tower. Even at 7:30 in the morning, I could feel the joy bubbling in the air. The cops were undoubtedly exhausted from doing the same job the night before, but they cheerfully babbled among themselves and warmly welcomed us civilian volunteers as they gave us a rundown of our tasks and theirs and how we may call them for help should we need it.
Due to the approaching typhoon, the weather in Metro Manila was unusually chilly and windy. The sky was partly cloudy. The sun peeked through the clouds from time to time, but it didn’t roast us too long. Even if it did, our spirits were never dampened. We waited at our spot near the main entrance of the mall where the Pope was to pass, on his way to the Arena. We waited for ten hours. During which, the screen outside the Arena showed a live broadcast of the Pope’s activities: From his Welcome Address in Malacañang Palace to his Papal Mass in the Manila Cathedral in Intramuros.
Because the Manila Cathedral was mainly attended with the clergy, Pope Francis’ Homily was primarily an appeal to the local clergy to serve their respective congregations with love and service and humility. He encouraged the clergy to practice what they preach.
Somehow, that stirred something in me. It got me wondering what God was trying to tell me. How can I be a better member of the Catholic Church than by just singing in the church choir every Sunday? God was asking something more of me, and I wondered what is it about me that I have to change. God was making me look inward and reflect upon my weaknesses and know how many there are. These reflections continued as I waited five more hours after the Papal Mass.
As soon as the Mass was over, the people began to gather toward the steel barricades separating the walkway from the driveway. The police took their positions outside the barricade and the army took theirs on the other side of the barricade. We in the BCBP stood behind them. My father was worried that the crowd will push forward and squeeze us against the army guys and hurt all of us. I wasn’t afraid. The people who frequent the SM Mall of Asia were typically upper-middle and high class people who were educated and don’t need to be told what to do twice.
With two rows of people in front of me, I would still be too short to see the Pope clearly when his ride drives by, so the army guys offered to let me squeeze between them. Meanwhile, a policeman asked my younger sister to record a video of the Pope with his Samsung Galaxy because their orders were to face the crowd in case anybody does something stupid like climb over the barricade. Touched by the cop’s dedication for his job, my sister gladly obliged.
The crowd became thicker and we at the barricade were forced to stay on our feet for five hours lest we lose our spot. The energy went high up when the last hour passed and we eagerly waited for the screen to show the Pope coming our way. People began to scream with glee as the Pope’s entourage passed along the Nagtahan Bridge, then Taft Avenue, and finally EDSA. We watched him keep standing on his open-air Popemobile, fearless and joyful as he waved to the crowd.
The army and police officers were just as excited as we were. They weren’t fazed by fatigue. “Once I see him, it would be as if the sleepless nights were nothing,” they said.
The screaming became louder as the motorcade reached the end of EDSA and circled the rotunda to turn south toward the MOA Arena. “Hurry!” the army guys called to me and made room for me at the barricade. I wanted to scream along, but I was overwhelmed. He was coming. And soon, the white Ford truck with the simple fiberglass shield passed, carrying the Pope, clad in white, smiling and waving at us. He was in front of my eyes for exactly one second.
It was the most amazing experience. That one second was worth the ten hours of waiting outside the Mall of Asia. It didn’t even matter that I wasn’t able to attend the Meeting with the Families in the MOA Arena because tickets weren’t readily available to volunteers. What really mattered was that I got to see the Pope, and he was only ten feet away from me.
In the days that followed, I was left wondering what God was trying to tell me through Pope Francis. The Sunday Mass coincided perfectly with the Feast of the Santo Niño; the Gospel retold the narrative of Jesus rebuking his disciples for trying to send the children away. “Let the children come to me,” He said, “and do not prevent them. The Kingdom of God belongs to such as these.”
The Command Chaplain Father Rene told us about how he went with his family to Villamor Air Base to see the Pope as he traveled from the airport to the Papal Nunciature. “I went there neither in my military uniform nor in my clerical garments but as a civilian,” he said. “And just as I experienced my hairs standing on end when I saw Pope John Paul II in 1995 when I was a seminarian, I experienced the same with Pope Francis.” I was stunned when Father Rene mused about how, upon seeing Pope Francis, he’d wondered how he can change for the better.
As I pondered upon the Papal Visit’s slogan “We are all God’s children,” it came to me: I must cast aside the hardness in my heart and be less judgmental. I must come to God like a child and look upon my neighbor with trust and and not let my pride get in the way of my capacity for mercy and compassion. More importantly, I must refrain from my classist attitude. It’s making me a hypocrite and a slacktivist.
I’m not going to enumerate any more of my shortcomings; those are mine to identify and correct. But certainly, the Papal Visit has left a mark upon my heart. I hope the same is true for all.
