In the landscape of modern Christian witnessing, the abstract often struggles to find a home. Faith can easily devolve into a series of transactional rituals or privatized devotions, detached from the gritty socio-economic realities of the community. Yet, the ecclesial history of the Parish of St. Rafael the Archangel in Balete, Aklan, offers a profound, concrete alternative. Long before papal encyclicals like Pope Francis’ Laudato Si’ (2015) popularized "integral ecology," or national statutes like the Organic Agriculture Act of 2010 legislated sustainable farming, the Katilingban of Balete was already weaving a thick, living theology. By fusing the structural reform of the parish financial system with grassroots ecological community organizing, Balete’s Basic Christian Communities (BCC-CO) incarnated a powerful triad: the subversive grace of St. Augustine, the historical struggle of Gustavo Gutiérrez and Leonardo Boff, and the restless, enduring hope of Jürgen Moltmann, all localized through the biblical, historical insights of Fr. Tito Gelito and the dept community organizing skill of Msgr. Pedro Frac.
In the classical theology of liberation, struggle is not
just about political rights; it is about breaking the chains of systemic
dependencies that keep people poor. The introduction of synthetic,
chemical-based agriculture (often pushed by multi-national corporations and
heavily marketed government projects like the destructive Golden Kohol)
created a cycle of economic bondage for Filipino farmers. They became dependent
on expensive, imported inputs, eroding both their financial independence and
the health of their land.
Under Fr. Tito Gelito—and building on the pastoral
foundations of Fr. Joe Parohinog in the late 1970s—the introduction of the
African Night Crawler and Japanese Red Worm was a quiet act of defiance. It
sought to liberate the farmers from this dependency. By reviving the dagyaw
(the traditional Aklanon culture of communal, voluntary cooperative labor), the
parish showed that the struggle for economic survival and ecological integrity
could be won together. Witnessing here was not a sermon; it was a collective
hands-on effort to build an alternative, self-reliant way of life. It drew away
from the institutional down to the communal way of life.
Our previous reflection on
Augustine’s grace noted that it acts as a quiet, transforming energy that
subverts dominant, corrupt structures. Unlike the loud, high-profile government
programs launched with "media blitzes and hosannas," the true seeds
of transformation came discretely. They rode in the soiled pockets of volunteer
community workers like late Ng. Donie Cuarton and Nono Romulo, arriving home
from a BEC seminar in Bacolod in 1992/1993. Assisted by Pido, a gentle BEC
worker from Negros, this was grace operating from the bottom up—unassuming,
organic, and deeply relational. This is the very definition of Fr. Carlos
Abesamis's "historical grace." It did not wait for a presidential
decree or a DILG memorandum. It took root in the everyday, lived reality of
poor communities, transforming ordinary worms into instruments of communal
salvation.
Fr. Tito Gelito's "Theology of Life" integrated
the material and the spiritual. It posits that the goods of the Earth are not
commodities to be exploited, but "instruments and channels in a communal
and familial journey with Jesus." In this framework, feeding the worms,
preparing the dapog (organic composting/seedbedding), and sharing the
organic fertilizer became liturgical acts. It bridged the gap between Sunday
worship and Monday survival. The same faith that led parishioners to shift from
the Arancel to the Pledge System also led them to care for the soil.
Both actions rejected a commercialized, transactional relationship—whether with
the sacraments or with Mother Earth.
Today, while those worms have spread to places like Barangay
Feliciano and Barangay Calizo, or even as far as Bulwang, Numancia, under the
care of enterprising individuals and due to human frailty, and even though the Katilingban
finds itself wandering AGAIN in the wilderness of "Massah and
Meribah"—searching for the paths it once trod—Moltmann’s theology of hope
(Theologia Spes) keeps the community restless and expectant. The memory
of Balete’s pioneering witness remains a potent seed. It is a reminder that
when a "little flock" organizes itself around the free outpouring of
grace, the grit of historical struggle, and the deep, rich soil of community
solidarity, the Word of God is guaranteed to bear fruit—thirty, sixty, and a
hundredfold. The fact that this community is still "hopeful as ever of
finding its way back to the path it once trod" proves that the seed sown
in the 1990s was not lost. The history of the St. Rafael vermiculture project
serves as a permanent reference point—a reminder to the younger generation that
a self-sustaining, ecologically sound, and deeply fraternal Church is not an
impossible dream. It is a burning reality they have already lived. It such a
reality that’s worthy of setting up on a hill for all to remember as we observe
and celebrate today our Golden Jubilee as a Diocese.
As for those once called, may they find the courage to bend
their knees in prayer: “Call us anew, O Lord, and in our paths in the world,
make us once more, channels of your peace.”
No comments:
Post a Comment