I decided to write it down to proclaim the goodness
and greatness of the Living God , our God of Healing.
It has been a long journey of healing for me.
And that moment came on Black Saturday, March 26, 2016.
Read on. Be inspired. Be healed.
I am glad I said yes to the Local Responsable's invitation to spend Holy Week at the Notre Dame de Vie (NDV) Center of Spirituality in Asia in Brgy. Encanto, Angat, Bulacan.
This is the "origin" of Mother of Life Center and the institute I came to love dearly.
What started as a normal way of celebrating the Paschal Triduum ended up being a healing moment for me.
I will explain. Mahaba e, be patient with me.
As a child, I looked forward to celebrating Holy Week.
Each day for me has a highlight activity or event like the palaspas, washing of the feet, Visita Iglesia, 7 last words, Easter Vigil, and the salubong. For someone who knows the liturgy of the church, each activity has meaning, but as you celebrate it every year, it becomes like an ordinary event. Kasi nga ginagawa mo na every year. You just have to find meaning in it, depending on one's present situation in life.
So for me, Holy Week has busy days except Black Saturday. I grew up thinking and experiencing that Black Saturday has nothing to offer except to rest before the vigil. It was just a day before Easter.
It all changed last Saturday - March 26, 2016.
After two days of continuous activities with the NDV community,
I felt renewed by the environment and the rituals of Holy Thursday and Good Friday. Of course, in NDV, the rituals are more elaborate, and the liturgies are longer because the community really follows the tradition.
Syempre, I was already familiar with the rituals. I picked up a few points for reflections here and there. I just appreciated the silence. Then came Black Saturday.
I checked the schedule for this day. It was uneventful except for the vigil that would start at 9:00 in the evening.
All of us are mostly into prayer and meditation, and liturgical preparation. I went to silent prayer with the community at 9:00 am in the chapel.
Before the start of the silent prayer, the Local Responsable read a homily written by the founder of NDV - Fr. Marie Eugene of the Child Jesus - way back Black Saturday of 1961. It will be the guide for the community to enter into prayer that moment.
(Hidden story: Ms. Juliet Garan, the Responsable General, told me her story after I shared what happened to me.
Ms. Juliet told me that she forgot to assign a person to take charge of the spiritual reading for the silent prayer that day. They got caught up with the busy schedule of Holy Thursday, Good Friday & Easter. So, in haste, she just searched inside the folder near her and saw the homily of Fr. Marie Eugene. She took it and decided that she would be the one to read the homily. She even told me that she felt nervous because she didn't even practice reading it aloud and that there might be difficult words to pronounce. But she decided to move on because all of us were already inside the chapel.
So the reading of this particular homily was UNPLANNED)
What was the homily about?
It was Father Marie Eugene's (FME) homily/reflection about the Blessed Virgin Mary (BVM) and her ordeal after Good Friday.
What is so special about the homily? Well, for one, there is no written account in the gospels or in any other church document of what happened to the BVM after Good Friday. My image of her sort of ended at the foot of the cross, then Pentecost na.
In his homily, FME gave such a very vivid description of what could have possibly happened to her after the painful event. What happened to the BVM, in his description, was the EXACT thing that happened to me too after the internment of mommy. This moved me to tears the whole time we were in silent prayer.
I haven't really thought about what happened after the internment. My thoughts were focused on what had happened before. The scenario was really the same. And it hit me hard.
Let me share with you parts of the homily and the exact thing that happened to me after.
"Mary, around you people cry. The holy women lament in front of the tomb that hides Jesus from their eyes. Night falls, it is time to go... John takes you home... you follow John... John takes you respectfully, affectionately like a son... His mother is also there, with your sister and Mary Magdalene. ... John and his mother bring you to their house in Jerusalem... "
Actually after the internment, I was torn. There were two families involved - dad's side and mom's side. I have to choose kanino ako sasama sa pag-uwi? Where will I go?
I felt lost. I was so tired na, but when my aunt (mom's sister), Tita Beth, told me, "Tara, uwi na tayo.", sumunod lang ako sa kanya.
I realized that when she brought me to her house after the internment, it was her way of telling me that she was "adopting" me already. I was in a daze at that time, so I was not thinking about where to go.
My mommy has 11 sisters and 3 brothers. I know they want to help in one way or another. There were some who wanted to take me in, and I am very grateful for that. And that includes Tita Beth, who didn't think twice about of taking me in. She has 5 children already, but she didn't hesitate to take another one, me.
"What was the house like? Probably it was like the houses of well-to-do people. Generally, at the ground floor, there is a large area, like a living room which, in the houses of the poor, is the only room... In John's house, there was such a living room. The friends and the holy women were gathered there. But in this house of a well-to-do family, there was an upper room, a family room... Mary, you probably are led to the upper room, the room for close friends of the family. John, his mother and your sister must have followed you there...you squat on the floor, and you remain there, night and day..."
It happened to me,too! Just like John's house, Tita Beth's house has a lot of space, a big living room on the first floor, and a guest room. But she didn't lead me there. Instead, she led me upstairs, where her children and grandchildren were staying. She led me to one room on the second floor. She gave me my own "upper room." She could have led me to the guest room, but she didn't. In her own way, she made it known that I have a home with them.
And during the first few days after taking me in, I didn't have the energy to go down and eat and socialize. I was just upstairs, in my own upper room.
I remember now that inside the room I was just sitting in a corner, like Mary, contemplating, grieving, and hurting. I was just quiet and immobile. What else can I do? But they let me be. They didn't impose their presence at that time. They gave me the space and the time to be alone.
And just like Mary, in my own upper room, in solitude, I tried to comprehend what happened to me and my family. I kept asking why. I can't see a bright future for me. I can't understand that in a matter of two hours, after I left for work, my mommy died in a tragedy. Evil entered our home, it entered our lives.
I was so confused, lost, and depressed. I never felt so alone in my whole life. It was painful solitude for me as well.
Oh Mary, adopt us. On this day, allow us to remain near you, in the upper room. We will be silent, respecting your suffering and your silence. We want only to look at you, and by this look, obtain the grace destined for us and prepared for us by God from all eternity."
When I heard this part of the homily, I felt light.
The silence in the chapel was so intense.
There was a slight breeze that touched me, this I can't really explain. I just felt it. I really felt it.
When I looked at the image of the BVM near me, I just felt loved. I was allowed to be near her. I was allowed to feel her. I was allowed to experience her. There was no other way for me to express the feeling but to cry.
Maybe, if the experience is really too intense, wala ka talagang magagawa kundi ang maluha.
The whole homily moved me. It gave me the realization that Mama Mary was very human in a way that I can truly understand and that was through my own experience of grief and mourning.
During prayer, I kept on crying because it made me realize that the BVM experienced what I, too, experienced. I am not alone pala.
It gave me great hope.
After four years, Mama Mary helped me heal certain painful memories of the tragedy that were unconsciously still rooted in my heart. She let me be healed in God's time.
This is my grace: I was allowed to be near her, in her upper room, to be silent and learn from her, and most importantly, to respect the work of God, and the work of the Holy Spirit.
To be near her was great comfort for me.
From her own upper room, she led me to my own upper room, and together we sat down and grieved together.
In silence and in solitude, she helped me understand what it is to grieve, but she also helped me understand that hope floats.
The silence of Black Saturday has new meaning to me now. It is not just a day of mourning or rest but a day of fruitful solitude, as witnessed by the BVM.
a Holy Saturday.
I don't know if I made sense. I don't know if my imagination was just active that day.
But what I got from that experience was renewed hope.
It matters to me because that day, I received the gift of healing. It was my purification from anger and grief.
My Black Saturday is no longer bleak.
It is now a Holy Saturday of grace.
This is the joy I want to share with you.
Indeed, God is the God of healing,
in His own perfect time.
My healing journey continues,
but it is no longer heavy.
I still cry.
I still grieve.
Hindi naman talaga yan matatapos,
but I am at peace because inside
my upper room,
Mama Mary is with me.
- At 'yan ang sabi ni Manang!
Black Saturday - Easter Vigil
March 26, 2016