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BY PETER SOLIS NERY
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Monday, November 20, 2017
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- Father Zerrudo
THE CHURCH has to adapt to the realities of the new millennium, but organized religion can only stretch so much without breaking apart. It is one of the last remaining fabrics that hold society together.
*
A simple breakfast was served in the teahouse, in the middle of a blooming garden—red and white anthuriums, purple orchids hanging on the trunks of the golden coconuts.
Father Zerrudo, youngish, bespectacled, rather serious-looking, scanning the morning newspaper.
Matt seated across from the priest, served by the cook a breakfast of coffee, eggs, tocino, and bread.
*
The priest looked up from the papers, Go ahead, eat. Don’t mind me. I don’t eat much breakfast. Just mostly coffee and bread.
More coffee, Father? asked the cook, a plump woman, white hair starting to show. She has a Nora Aunor mole, with wild hair growing out of it.
Yes, thank you, Mameng.
She poured coffee in the priest’s cup, moved the small hand bell within the priest’s reach, excused herself, Father, I have to gut the fish for lunch. Just ring if you need anything, okay?
Thank you again, Mameng.
*
She left, with her elephantine weight, and hairy Nora Aunor mole.
Nice garden, Matt mentioned by way of small talk.
I don’t remember a garden here by the convent.
It’s new, the priest explained. My hobby.
I like taking my breakfast here after the early morning Mass. Just mostly coffee and bread.
I stay for a while reading the papers.
Then, I work in my office starting at eight o’clock sharp.
What do you do?
*
Trying to earn a living as a musician, Matt said with no conviction, then added, I sing mostly in nightclubs.
Church choir to nightclubs, the priest said.
You disapprove?
Looks to me like a strange career trajectory. But let’s just say I don’t like nightclubs.
Been to one?
Once. When I was still a seminarian. Never liked it.
*
I like working in clubs, Matt explained, but my big dream is recording.
When I was younger, my grandmother played recordings of Mario Lanza, Luciano Pavarotti.
I wanted to sing like them but I didn’t have the training.
People always tell me I have a good singing voice, but I just don’t seem to get good breaks.
I’ve been chasing my dreams to be a singer like crazy.
I left this island for such a dream.
I’ve been to places, but never gotten anywhere.
*
Father Zerrudo set the newspapers aside. What do you think of the festival?
The question surprised Matt.
The Bakunawa Festival, the priest reiterated. What do you think of it?
Matt pondered for a bit, swallowed hard before venturing, I think it is great. Looks like it is really helping raise the income of the people, the island’s economy.
Father Zerrudo turned red, as if burnt by the sun of truth.
*
Income! Economy. Commerce. Profits. That’s all that the people care about these days.
Matt didn’t know if he was expected to react, but in the end he said, Most people in this country are hungry, Father.
People are actually dying because of dire poverty.
Unlike before where poverty silently kills, the newspapers actually report it now.
Read the headlines, Father.
*
Father Zerrudo seemed not to hear.
This festival is the ruination of the peoples’ morals.
You don’t know what has become of it.
It’s a virtual cesspool of immoral behavior: drunken orgies, indecent shows, among others.
Three years ago, they added a Bikini Open Contest where girls paraded almost in the nude. An Open Bikini Show, if I may say so.
Then, last year, heaven help us, they held a Miss Gay Beauty Pageant!
*
But, Father, with all due respect, the festival has some proven positive effects, too.
A sin is a sin, and can never be ignored regardless of what economic benefits might be attached to it! The priest was adamant.
Father Hingco was cool about the whole thing, Matt reminded him.
Father Hingco accepted the failings and frailties of his parishioners. Turned a blind eye on the excesses of the festival! Father Zerrudo snapped back.
*
Tourism provided a new and lucrative source of income for the islanders, Father.
Before the festival, the island’s economy depended entirely on fishing.
Our small fisher folks were increasingly overwhelmed by industrialized fishing operations from the larger neighboring islands.
If the festival is helping the lives of the people, what is so wrong with that?
*
Father Zerrudo continued his diatribe.
This festival does not even have any religious significance.
On the contrary, it promotes non-Christian beliefs like the myth of the sea monster, Bakunawa, and its transmogrification. (To be continued)/PN
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