Chapter 19
“Fr. Acebado, why are you here so early!”, the petite lady sitting at the small desk said. “It’s only 8:30!”
“Daily mass will begin in thirty minutes, Ms. Sumulong, and I want to be ready,” Fr. Nimuel Acebado y Bayani responded.
“Bishop Reyes told you that you must get more rest. Joseph left me a message saying that you didn’t make it home until 3 am last night, so that means you may have gotten five hours of sleep at the most. You know the parishioners will have everything prepared, and all you need to do is show up one minute early to put on your vestments,” the secretary said, almost as if she were scolding her teenage son.
“The parishioners have been wonderful in how they have really taken up so many of the responsibilities, yourself included, Corazon,” the priest said with a gentle smile. “But it is more than simply showing up and saying a few words. I also need to get my spirit ready.”
Ms. Sumulong looked a little embarrassed. “I understand, Father, but many of us are concerned about your body and want to make sure it is in good shape to support your spirit – and ours as well, if you’ll forgive me for being selfish.”
“The one sin that I feel has been much less present around here lately has been selfishness.” Fr. Acebado shared. “People are truly looking out for one another.”
“Well, that may be true for the people you have come in contact with the past three weeks,” said Ms. Sumulong, “but I’m afraid there are many who have not been coming to church who are going in the opposite direction. It seems like those people that don’t have a firm foundation have turned crazy because of all of the recent events. Maria Juan told me her cousins in Cebu City just walked away from their restaurant. They packed up some of their belongings, asked their older children to join them, and left town with their young ones. Their 19-year old daughter was scared because she thought her mother wasn’t strong enough to stand up to her father sometimes, so she left with them, but the boy stayed in Cebu. He’s going to try and run the restaurant even though…”
“I’m sorry to interrupt, Corazon,” interrupted Fr. Acebado, “but it’s the people of this parish and the people that come here I’m focused on. You are correct. I don’t have a firm handle on what’s happening in the rest of the country or in the world at large at the moment. But I’m called to lead this flock. I cannot watch over all of the lost sheep in the world.
“I know, Father, but it’s not everyone in the world. It’s Maria’s cousins. I think they have become selfish about their own needs and aren’t thinking of their children. Perhaps if they could come here to…”
“If you’ll excuse me, Ms. Sumulong,” Fr. Acebado interrupted again, “I’m going into my office for some brief prayer before Mass.” And the parish priest walked towards a room off to the side.
“Of course, Father.” Ms. Sumulong said with disappointment in her voice. “Oh, by the way, someone from the Governor’s office will be here at 10:30 this morning to talk to you about our emergency preparedness plans.”
Fr. Acebado stopped at the doorway and turned around. “To talk about what? Oh, never mind, I’ll deal with that when the time arrives.” and then he continued into his office and shut the door.
Due to the number of people waiting for a special blessing after receiving communion, the daily mass took longer than usual, so it was 10:15 when the priest was wishing people a good day at the back of the chapel as they were leaving. Those that tried to get his time right then, he asked to make an appointment thru the secretary. Those that wanted him to hear their confession were reminded that daily reconciliation was from 4 pm until 6 pm. Those that invited him for a meal were thanked and told he had meals lined up for the next month, but would remember their offer and attempt to make it to their house in late June. Finally, a man who had been hanging back approached Fr. Acebado as the last congregants said goodbye.
“Fr. Bayani?” the man asked.
“Please, call me Fr. Acebado.” the priest responded. “That is how people around here call me. Besides, I never really liked that name.”
“Well, you certainly look like a hero to them, based on the way they treat you.” the man continued.
“How can I help you, my friend,” Fr. Acebado asked.
“I believe we need to talk,” the man said.
“If you could please schedule an appointment with Ms. Sumulong, our secretary, that will get you on my schedule as soon as possible,” the priest answered rotely.
“I already have! And now is the time for that appointment, Father.”
“Ah, yes, she did tell me about someone from the Governor’s office coming by. Is that you?”
“Well, not exactly the Governor’s office, but nonetheless, yes, I am with the State offices.” The man held out his hand. “I am Isidro Aquinaldo, a Senior Community Consultant with the National Disaster Risk Management Council.”
“And what exactly is the job of a Senior Community Consultant, Mr. Aquinaldo?” asked Fr. Acebado.
“Before two months ago, I mostly gathered statistics and stories, and gave talks at community halls on preparing for tsunamis, cyclones and earthquakes. And there was the occasional national or international conference I got to attend. I must confess, Father, it was a very nice job,” the bureaucrat said with a sly grin.
“But now,” he continued, the grin disappearing, “things have changed a bit. Can we go into your office, Father?”
“Yes, please excuse me, Mr. Aquinaldo,” the priest said. “I’m used to hearing the same stories over and over again, but yours sounds a bit different, and I forgot my manners. Please, this way,” Fr. Acebado motioned as he began walking towards the offices.
“No apology, necessary, Fr. Acebado. The current times have influenced us all. Take myself, for example. I truly enjoyed my lifestyle. Not too stressful but interesting enough to keep the days moving along. But after the aliens arrived and set up their operation in Pontevedra, it made me reassess things. I’m sure that part of the story is in common with what others have told you, eh Father?” Mr. Aquinaldo said.
Fr. Acebado nodded in agreement.
“So I started talking to my fellow Consultants within the Council,” Mr. Aquinaldo continued. “We talk about the risk of the unexpected emergency and how to prepare for it. I’ll admit this is one scenario we never considered within the Council. But we do have connections, and quickly contacted our colleagues in other countries. Can you believe that three countries actually have contingency plans for an alien encounter? Do you know which three?”
Fr. Acebado shrugged his shoulders.
“The United States, Great Britain and South Africa,” the Senior Community Consultant answered his own question. “The Yankees and the Brits have had plans for over 100 years, apparently. South Africa created one back in 2037 when their Prime Minister consulted an ‘advisor’ who told him aliens would be landing in the country the following year. He mainly organized plans to protect the diamond and rare metals mines, thinking the demand for raw materials would increase.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Aquinaldo,” the priest interrupted, “but how do all of these interesting facts deal with us? I’ve got others scheduled to meet with me soon.”
“Yes, a very good point, Fr. Acebado,” the risk manager responded. “I enjoy my facts and research, but now is definitely the time for action.”
“One of the facts we know from previous tragedies and emergencies is that people gather in times of crisis. And one of the places people historically gather is their religious community. Here, Father! People are coming here! And that brings its own level of risk, but also its own purpose for preparation.”
“Mr. Aquinaldo,” the priest interrupted again. “That is not news at all to us. And we’ve been working and preparing for more people each day.”
“Yes, I can tell you’ve expanded your local support infrastructure, Father.” Mr. Aquinaldo responded. “How many people do you have coming here every day, lately?”
“Probably four-hundred between the two daily Masses and the other services we have, plus another fifty or so that stop by for advice or questions,” Fr. Acebado answered.
“OK, now multiply that times ten,” the government worker said.
Fr. Acebado chuckled, “This is not a cathedral, Mr. Aquinaldo. We don’t have the space to support that many for Services.”
“I’m sorry, Fr. Acebado, but you won’t have any choice,” Mr. Aquinaldo chuckled in return. “And these people won’t be coming to attend a Mass. They will be coming here because they feel there is no place else to go.”
“We can’t support that many people! There is not enough space in our entire property for that many,” the priest complained.
“We’ve seen it time and time again, Father. Didn’t you have a large crowd gathering here after Typhoon Imelda?”
“That was well before my time.”
“That was only twenty years ago, Father. And, yes, there were over one-thousand people that came here and stayed for over a week waiting for aid. And this was a location relatively far from the coast.”
“Impossible! Like I said, there isn’t enough space on our grounds for that many to fit,” the priest said defiantly. “It would be irresponsible for us to accept that many people.”
The conversation paused for a few moments while both men looked at each other.
Finally, Mr. Aquinaldo spoke. “Do you know whose name is on the second-to-last window on the left of the main sanctuary, Father?”
“I’m sorry, no.” the priest responded.
“Juan and Sally Aquinaldo”, answered the risk consultant. “They donated the money for that window when the sanctuary was remodeled forty years ago. Sally was my grandmother. I know there were one-thousand people here, Father, because my grandmother was one of those helping the hundreds of others that came to the church looking for help. She told me about that event, and is not one to lie.
“Didn’t you ever study the history of this parish, Father?”
Fr. Acebado looked both embarrassed and upset. “I have responsibilities for many, many things in this parish, Mr. Aquinaldo. Being the parish historian is not one of them.”
“My apologies, Fr. Acebado. I did not intend to diminish the importance of the pastoral activities you perform each day,” Isidro responded. “It’s just that I know an awareness of the past can strengthen the connection to the present.”
“And speaking of the present, Mr. Aquinaldo, I have another ten minutes before my next appointment arrives. What is the outcome you would like to get to in this conversation?” the priest asked again.
“You need to prepare for a much larger assembly of people, Father,” the risk consultant summarized. “I estimate four-thousand people will be gathering here in the coming weeks. In addition to the people who are looking for protection, guidance and community, there are those that will come here as a natural gathering point as both onlookers of the nearby alien craft and those interested in leaving Earth. Then there will be those who will see the large group of people as an opportunity. Looters coming to find empty or less well-protected buildings, terrorists looking to hurt the aliens, kidnappers looking to take a ‘bride’ along with them to the new world, people looking to turn in others as an offering to be left alone.”
Fr. Acebado looked at his guest with continued disbelief. “You make it sound like everyone thinks the end of the world is coming,” the priest said. “What I’ve seen and heard from people so far is that this has been a moment for them to focus on their relationship, or rather their lack of a relationship with God. But they aren’t panicking and clamoring for a refuge.”
“Have you heard the latest announcement from the aliens, Father?” Isidro asked.
“My attention is focused here, so I probably haven’t heard it,” the priest answered.
“They have plans to expand to eighty-one total sites around the globe, similar to what is just down the road in Pontevedra,” Mr. Aquinaldo shared. “Eighty-one sites to take people off the planet. And they will be building a special elevator to carry people from the ground to take them above the atmosphere where they will then be able to directly board a spaceship leaving for the new planet. They want to increase the departure rate from one-thousand people per week to over one-thousand a day from each of these sites.”
There was a knock on the door and the secretary poked her head in the office. “Mrs. Calungsod is waiting for you, Father. Your next appointment should have begun ten minutes ago.”
“Thank you, Ms. Sumulong.” the priest replied. “We are almost done.”
Ms. Sumulong glared at the government consultant and then closed the door.
“I can see you don’t believe half of what I’m telling you, Father,” Mr. Aquinaldo said as he began to get up from his chair. “Ask your secretary to pull up the news from whatever source you trust. Discover it for yourself. I can tell you that the people on our islands, and all around the world as far as that goes, are getting very agitated. My job is to anticipate what may happen and help people plan for it. My conscience, or perhaps I should say the voice of my Grandmother, is telling me to plan for events here.”
“I am not a religious person, Father, so I don’t know if or how God is involved in all this and won’t offer any advice on how you should act as a priest,” he continued as he got to the door. “but I see what people are doing and know how similar large-scale news events can scare people. I’m concerned about the rioting that will be coming and ask that you take appropriate precautions for what will likely happen here.”
The priest quickly walked over to the door and extended his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Aquinaldo, for sharing your concern and your other information. And you also have my appreciation for the help your grandparents provided the parish in the past.”
“You can show that appreciation by focusing on planning for current events,” the risk consultant said as he shook the priest’s hand.
Fr. Acebado stood and looked at the empty doorway for a few seconds before going over to greet his next visitor. “Please come in,” he said looking at the woman waiting in his secretary’s office.
The woman got up from the chair she was sitting in and quickly came over. “Thank you for seeing me, Father.”
As she walked past the priest to go into her office, he could see she had been crying. He shook his head and turned to his secretary. “Would it be possible to get a few cups of tea, Ms. Sumulong?” He began to go into the office and then around again. “Oh, and could you see what news you can find on the latest announcements about the alien landing sites?”
His second visitor was standing in front of his desk. “Please, sit down,” the priest said as he walked around to his own chair. “Mrs. Calungsod, correct?”
“Yes,” she answered as she sat down.
“How can I help you today?” the priest started.
“I need you to help my children, Father,” the worried-looking woman said as she scooted to the front of the chair and put her folded hands on the priest’s desk.
“And how might I help them,” Fr. Acebado offered.
“They are all lost,” Mrs. Calungsod replied.
The priest looked a bit confused. “Wouldn’t it be better to contact the police station to help track down lost children?”
“No, Father, I’m sorry. They aren’t physically lost. I mean they have lost their way,” Mrs. Calungsod explained matter-of-factly.
“And how has this happened?,” Fr. Acebado asked. “Have they taken up sinful practices?”
“Well, I don’t believe so. It’s hard to tell if they have committed a sin or not. I don’t recall learning about anything they are doing as specifically sinful. But perhaps it is! Well, not for my youngest, but perhaps for Margarita. Oh, now I’m truly worried about them, Father! Are they sinning all this time as well?” the burdened woman practically cried as she began to wring her hands.
“I don’t think you should worry just yet, Mrs. Calungsod,” the priest said in a not-so-reassuring voice. “Tell me what is happening with your children. Let’s start with Margarita.”
“She went to the alien ship!” Mrs. Calungsod said with an exasperated voice. “She told me ‘This is truly a sign, Ina, that you say we should always be looking for.’ She told me the aliens have come to help us, and she is going to them to accept that help.”
“And how does she think they will help us,” the priest asked.
“They will give humans a new start on a clean world,” the mother answered. “She wants to have them take her to this other planet! Who knows what is there? Who knows they don’t want to find people who hear their stories and simply want to take humans for whatever evil purposes they have in mind. She is the smart one, Father. I know she wasn’t planning on marrying any time soon, but she had a good job delivering home goods that people have ordered. And she was taking maeker classes so she could create the goods that her sister wanted to design.”
“And her sister is the youngest?” Fr. Acebado asked.
“No, she is the middle child.” Mrs. Calungsod answered.
“And what happened to her?” the priest continued.
“She disappeared,” the mother answered.
“But I thought you said none of the children were missing?” the priest said, looking very confused.
“Well, she might be missing by this point. But after I pleaded with Margarita to stay, and she left anyway, Maria Theresa screamed at me, telling me I let Margarita walk off to her death.” The tears began streaming down Mrs. Calungsod’s face, tracing the path the previous stains had made. “I didn’t want her to go, Father! I tried stopping Margarita, but she wouldn’t listen. She pulled out of my arms, and said that if I truly did love her and if I did truly trust in God, then I would want her to go to a better place. And then, the next morning after Margarita left, I found a note from Maria Theresa in the kitchen. She said that if I couldn’t protect her sister, then I wouldn’t be able to protect her either, and she was going away to find some place to escape from the aliens and be safe.” The crying mother pulled a crinkled paper from her purse and laid in on the priest’s desk, trying to smooth out the wrinkles with her hand.
Fr. Acebado was noticeably unsure what to do, as he didn’t know how to comfort this person. Thankfully for him, there was a knock on the door, and Ms. Sumulong came in with a tray with two cups of tea. She set the tray on the desk, put her hand on Mrs. Calungsod’s shoulder and rubbed it back and forth a bit. “Here, drink this Ate,” the secretary said, handing a cup of tea to the softly crying mother.
Mrs. Calungsod nodded and took the cup. “Thank you,” she said.
“Yes, thank you, Ms. Sumulong!” Fr. Acebado.
“You’re welcome,” said the secretary, and gave the priest a small look of disappointment as she closed the door behind her as she left the room.
Fr. Acebado took the other cup of tea. “I’m sorry to hear of the turmoil in your home, Mrs. Calungsod. Did your daughter tell you where she was going?”
Mrs. Calungsod shook her head.
“Then I’m sure she’ll be found.” the priest said.
And the mother’s head shot up with a look of surprise.
“This sounds like a note written in fear,” the priest explained. “She ran away but has no better place to go, so I’m confident she will be found locally before long. Now tell me about the youngest. Another girl?”
“No, Miguel is my son. But he has the sweetest heart of all of them.” Mrs. Calungsod said, with a faint smile appearing.
“He sounds like someone you love very much!”, Fr. Acebado said hopefully.
“Not just me, Father,” the grateful mother said with a widening smile. “Everyone loves him because he has only love and kindness in his heart for everyone else! The one reason Margarita would have remained home would have been to stay with Miguel and help watch over him. But he told her he would be fine and she should follow her heart. So she left.”
“Then I heard Maria Theresa yelling at him yesterday, saying he had left Margarita down by feeding into her fantasies.” Mrs. Calungsod said, the smile completely fading from her face. “He blames himself for making Maria Theresa leave. And this morning, he won’t get out of bed, saying the news about the new alien sites is making him rethink his opinion about what the aliens are going to do.”
“He won’t eat anything, Father,” the worried mother continued. “he won’t get up, and he won’t even talk to me. He says he is confused and I’m afraid he is showing signs of depression.”
“I have all of these questions, Father. Who will watch after Margarita on the new planet? Who will find her Maria Theresa before she is harmed? Who will help Miguel heal? And who will take care of me if they are all gone?”
There was a moment of silence while she looked for guidance from the priest.
He finally broke the silence. “Where do you live?” he asked.
“About five kilometers from here on Calle General Santiago,” Mrs. Calungsod answered.
“Good. That is not too far off the route to where I’m having dinner this evening. I’ll stop by later today and talk with Miguel,” Fr. Acebado said definitively.
Mrs. Calungsod looked hesitant. “I’m sure Miguel would appreciate that, Father,” she said softly, as she looked down at her hands.
The priest noted the pause. “But…?” he inquired.
Mrs. Calungsod looked up again. “Miguel and I would both appreciate that, Father. What I think would be more helpful is if you could visit Margarita and talk to her. All of these people that are gathering at the ship are only thinking half-way. They think they know the answers, or they think the aliens have the answers. But the answers only come from one place,” she said, pointing upwards.
“They need you to provide the reminder of God’s message to us,” she continued. “We are not supreme – God is. We must follow His laws, honor His commandments, and protect His Earth – here where we live. All of those people need to hear you – – Margarita needs to hear you – – she needs to hear the Word of God, and you can share that with her, Father.”
Fr. Acebado was again at a loss for words.
Finally, he asked “So, would you like me to stop in and talk with Miguel?”
The loving mother’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly. “Yes, that would be appreciated, Father. You are welcome at my home any time.”
“Then I will visit him later today,” the priest said in a tone that sounded like he was trying to convince himself rather than comfort his guest.
Mrs. Calungsod stood up, and Fr. Acebado joined her.
“Thank you Father,” Mrs. Calungsod said. “I know I can count on you to help my children.” and she quickly walked to the door before the priest could catch up with her.
By the time he got to the secretary’s desk, Mrs. Calungsod had already left.
Ms. Sumulong looked at her boss and asked “She left without saying anything! How did it go in there?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” the priest answered truthfully. But before he could continue, a young couple walked into the room.
“Oh!” Ms. Sumulong said. “I lost track of time!”
The secretary quickly got up from her desk to embrace the couple. “I know you have reconciliation planned for this afternoon, Father, but I hope you don’t mind that I scheduled some time for Rosario and Lorenzo. They can’t be here later today.”
The blank face Fr. Acebado wore when Mrs. Calungsod left was replaced by a look of true happiness. “Mr. And Mrs Talangpaz! It has only been two months since we celebrated your wedding. Tell me you’re not in here for marriage counseling already!” the priest said.
“Uh, no Father,” Lorenzo replied, looking towards his wife. “We have not been having any issues. We just need to talk to you about…”
“I believe Father is using his not-so-famous sense of humor again, langga,” Rosario said, giving the priest a flat smile.
Fr. Acebado laughed. “And that is why I am especially happy to call you my friend, Rosario! You are one of the few people that understand the inner workings of my mind.”
He walked over to hug them both. “Please, come into my office.”
The couple looked at each other, and Corazon spoke up. “They were hoping you could hear their confession first.”
Fr. Acebado tilted his head slightly. “Well, yes, of course. Let me get my stole.”
The priest celebrated the sacrament of reconciliation, first with Lorenzo and then with Rosario. Afterwards, he invited them both into his office together.
“So, Lorenzo, you were about to explain why you needed to see me today when my joke failed earlier. Please, tell me, what is the reason for your visit,” Fr. Acebado asked.
Lorezno reached for his wife’s hand. “I’ll be direct, Father, as we don’t have much time. Rose and I have decided we’re going to the new planet. We have been able to get ourselves in the list of people leaving on the next ship tomorrow. We were able to convince one of the soldiers guarding the perimeter to let us come back here for confession and he would let us back into the landing center to reclaim our spot, but we have to be back in less than ninety minutes from now.”
The priest’s mouth was open in disbelief.
Rosario continued the explanation. “We know this sounds extreme, Father, but Lorenzo and I have been thinking and praying about this since the ship landed here two weeks ago. You know we love God’s earth and our desire is to protect it. But there is only so much we can do by teaching, advocating, and acting locally. We talk about setting examples for others to follow, and we feel called to this action.”
“Now it must be you that is telling me a bad joke,” Fr. Acebado finally said.
“No, Father Nimuel, this is no joke.” Rosario said with a gentle smile. “You were the one who told us there is more to saying ‘Yes’ to a vocation than simply celebrating the sacrament. We feel it is our responsibility as protectors of God’s earth to do this. And we want to start a family before too long, but don’t feel it would be good to expose a baby to the trip. So our hearts and our minds tell us this is the proper action to take.”
“You don’t know what this other world is like,” Fr. Acebado started. “All we know is a vague promise from these alien creatures. There is nothing that says they can be trusted. There is nothing that indicates this other world exists. God placed us on this Earth to follow His will. He wants us to be examples for others to follow, but they can’t follow our example if we leave the rest of humanity behind. How do we even know these alien creatures are created by God? Perhaps they have been spawned by evil forces!”
“Fr. Acebado! I know our decision may come as a big surprise to you, but you aren’t sounding like the friend and counselor we came to talk to,” Lorenzo said with emotion in his own voice. “Our minds are set and we need your support.”
The priest rubbed his forehead. “This is more than a surprise for me, Lorenzo. This is a shock. The two of you have been a bright spot in my time here in the past six months. You are the rare young faces in the congregation. And your genuine love of the Lord, and your willingness to heed His word are an inspiration for many – including myself. I know you have prayed, but how do you know it is God’s calling that you hear, and not your own desires?”
“Fr. Nimuel,” Rosario said, reaching across the desk to take the priest’s hands, “It is not just your support we need. We also need your help to bring the faith to our children and to carry our own faith forward.”
“I can help you right here in this parish,” the priest said with a weak smile.
“We’re asking for more than that, Father,” Rosario responded. “We’d like your blessing and your anointing. The blessing we are asking from you as a friend. The anointing we are asking from you as a recognized official of The Church.”
“What sort of anointing are you talking about?” Fr. Acebado asked.
The couple looked at each other as if to build up their collective courage.
Lorenzo spoke, “We know this is unique and, well, perhaps unorthodox. We’d like to be anointed as appointed representatives of the Roman Catholic Church to confer sacramental privileges for our children.”
The priest gave his friend a confused look.
“We’d like you to allow us to give the sacraments of Baptism, Communion and Confirmation to our children,” Lorenzo continued.
“How?”, Fr. Acebado asked. “I cannot simply say ‘Be it so!’ and it is done. I would need to talk to Bishop Reyes and understand what is possible, but even then you would not be able to consecrate the Eucharist.”
Lorenzo looked at Rosario and shook his head.
Rosario picked up the argument, “As Lorenzo said, Father, this is not something normally done. But you have to agree this is a completely new situation not encountered by The Church before. The visit from the aliens, the opportunity to move to a new world and save this one. And we’re not asking for priestly rights. Bless Lorenzo as a special deacon. I will carry a consecrated Host and holy oil for baptism and confirmation. When the time comes, if we are blessed with children, then Lorenzo can use some of each to share the sacraments of initiation with them.”
“How will you take the oils and the Host?” the priest asked. “I heard rumors that all of the personal belongings that people took with them for the first trip had to be left behind.”
Rosario reached into her pocket and brought out three small discs. “We’ll use these. And I will hide them in my hair so they aren’t found.”
Fr. Acebado picked up one of the discs to examine more closely. He looked at the earnest couple, stood up and walked over to the window in his office, and stared outside, turning the disc in his hand absent-mindedly.
After a few moments of silence he said, “The Host is made of perishable matter. It would be sacrilegious to let it spoil.”
Rosario quickly responded, “We can remove all air from a disc and give it a vacuum seal. Besides, with the Lord present in the Eucharist and with His blessings for extending His Church to this new world, he will keep the Host pure.”
After a few more moments of silence, Fr. Acebado gripped the disc tightly and turned around to his guests. “I can tell I’m not going to be able to dissuade you,” he said. “I have no idea what is permissible, but there is a voice telling me this is a proper thing to do.”
The young couple grasped hands in excitement.
“Thank you, Father Nimuel,” Lorenzo said. “And I apologize for being so demanding, but we need to leave very soon. Can we please do this now?”
“Yes,” the priest said, “we should before I think about this more and scare myself out of it being a good idea. Well, uh, let’s go to the sanctuary!”
The three of them walked out of the office, past the curious gaze of the secretary and into the main worship space.
“Rosario, will you prepare the altar, please.” Fr. Acebado asked. “And Lorenzo, if you will get the consecrated hosts? I’ll go get the Holy Oils.”
The three went about their tasks. After a minute, the priest came out from the room off the sanctuary, carrying two jars of oil and wearing his vestments.
“Please kneel,” Fr. Acebado said to the couple, directing them to the front of the altar.
“Loving Father in Heaven,” the priest began, “to whom there are no surprises and for whom all operates in Your plan. We know we are limited in sight and in knowledge. We know our minds are bound by our human experiences and do not understand the enormity of Your universe and the immensity of Your love. You have called each of us to a unique vocation to carry out Your plan. We thank You for those times when that vocation becomes clearer to us and we accept the responsibility You have asked of us.”
Fr. Acebado moved in front of the husband and placed his hands upon Lorenzo’s head. “Father in Heaven, it is through Your power that I perform and offer this blessing. As an ordained minister of the Roman Catholic Church, I confer upon you, Lorenzo Talangpaz, the rights and privileges to be a special deacon to pass along sacramental gifts to your children and their children, as with which you will be blessed. Do you ask for and accept this responsibility.”
Lorenzo replied, “Yes, with all my heart, I will honor and cherish this responsibility.”
The priest then went to the altar and placed a single Host in one disc, and then poured oil from one container into the second disc, and oil from the third container into the third disc. He sealed them, wiped away the excess oil, and stood in front of the wife.
“Rosario Talangpaz, you have asked to carry these vessels holding the sanctified Eucharist and blessed oils. You will carry the responsibility of protecting these items so that your faith, the faith of your ancestors and the faith of the Roman Catholic Church can be passed along to future generations on a new world. As Mary accepted the responsibility for being the vessel to bring Jesus into this world, do you accept the responsibility for carrying this faith to a new world?”
Rosario replied, “With Mary as my example, I accept what God is asking and will honor and cherish this responsibility.”
Fr. Acebado handed the three discs to Rosario.
Then he moved between the couple. “Please join hands,” he instructed them and held out his own hands above them.
“Lord, I asked for a special blessing upon this couple. Bring them safely to their new home, bless them with children and let those children be open to hearing Your word and the calling You have for them in their world. May Lorenzo and Rosario remain true to their promises and honor You with their actions.”
“In the name of the Father,” the priest continued as the couple made the Sign of the Cross, “and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit”
“Amen” all three said in unison.
The couple looked up at the priest, and all of them smiled.
Rosario stood and gave the Fr. Acebado a huge hug.
“Thank you, Father!” she said softly. “We will ensure the trust you have placed in us is carried out, as God wills and grants.”
“We need to go, Rosario,” Lorenzo said. He then extended his hand to the priest, “Thank you, Father. I don’t know what to say other than Thank you.”
“I don’t know what to say next either, Lorenzo,” the priest said. “I will pray for you both, and ask that you pray for us here on this planet.”
Rosario put the discs in her pocket and then as they were getting ready to leave, looked at her friend, “I’ll say goodbye for now, Father Nimuel. But I don’t think it will be forever. Perhaps the Lord is talking to you like he is us, Father. Perhaps your ministry will take you to new lands and you will be a missionary on the new planet.” Then she hugged him one last time, kissed him on the cheek, and the couple left.
“Is everything OK, Father?” Ms. Sumulong asked as Fr. Acebado walked into his office.
The priest was completely lost in his thoughts and didn’t reply.
“Father Acebado! Is everything OK?” Ms. Sumulong asked more forcefully.
He turned, looked at her, and said, “Well, I think so. Why do you ask?”
The secretary’s face grew more concerned. “You weren’t answering me when you walked in. And I thought you had left for lunch. Are you not eating with the Coronel family today?”
“Um, no, not today. Is that on my schedule? I guess it is. Could you let them know I’m not coming, please, Ms. Sumulong?”
“What will you eat, Father? You didn’t have any breakfast, and you need your energy for the rest of the afternoon?”
“Well, I have some fruit in my office, so I’ll have some of that,” the priest responded. “Thank you!”
And with that, he entered his office and closed the door behind him.
“I guess I should let the Bishop know what has happened,” Fr. Acebado said to himself. He sat down at his desk and brought up his commpad.
“Message to Bishop Reyes,” the priest said as the commblock began the e-note.
“Your Most Reverend Bishop Reyes,”
Fr. Acebado paused as thoughts flooded into his brain again.
He imagined the voice of Mr. Aquinaldo’s grandmother telling her grandson to come here to this parish.
He remembered the voice of his own grandmother telling him as a young boy to listen to God’s calling.
He saw Mrs. Calungsod’s call for the need of people, like Margarita, to hear God’s words for comfort and direction.
He thought about the desire for people to continue to practice their faith, and pondered the difficulty they would have without ordained ministers.
And then he returned his attention to the commpad and continued his dictation. “Today has certainly been one of the most interesting of my priesthood….”