calmwater zone

cupofcoldwater @ 2008-10-28T22:46:00

2008-10-27T14:47:00Z

CATHOLICS CANNOT SUPPORT THE RH BILL IN GOOD CONSCIENCE
A response to the position paper Catholics Can Support the RH Bill in Good Conscience

To the community of the Ateneo de Manila University:

We, alumni of our alma mater, wish to respond to the position paper authored by 14 members of our faculty. We laud our professors for a wide-ranging presentation on the Philippine social situation, most especially the undesirable effects of an unmanaged population growth to women, the poor and our young people. We commend their dedication to the integral human development of the Filipino people in these troubling times. However, with respect and fraternal charity towards them, we respond that Catholics cannot support the RH Bill in good conscience.

The question of which method Catholics can and should use in the regulation of birth has been resolved in the encyclical letter Humanae Vitae (quoted as HV) of Pope Paul VI. “…the Church teaches that married people may then take advantage of the natural cycles immanent in the reproductive system and engage in marital intercourse only during those times that are infertile, thus controlling birth in a way which does not in the least offend the moral principles” (HV 16).

Several questions—and indeed objections—arise from this teaching. We ask, “Is this teaching of the Holy Father definitive?” While the fact remains that Pope Paul VI did not issue the above-mentioned encyclical ex cathedra, it is also a fact that the Pope and the bishops are “authentic teachers, that is, teachers endowed with the authority of Christ” (Lumen Gentium 25). “The ordinary and universal Magisterium of the Pope and the bishops in communion with him teaches the faithful the truth to believe, the charity to practice, the beatitude to hope for” (Catechism of the Catholic Church 2034).

We therefore distinguish between a solemn magisterium of the Church and an ordinary and universal magisterium (cf. Code of Canon Law 750). Catholics are exhorted to believe those things which are “proposed as divinely revealed either (italics ours) by the solemn magisterium of the Church, or by its ordinary and universal magisterium” (ibid.). “All are therefore bound to shun any contrary doctrines” (ibid.). Since Humanae Vitae is an exercise of the ordinary teaching faculty of the Holy Father, we can rely on it to be a truthful and faithful interpretation of the teachings of Jesus Christ.

A second question arises, “How did Pope Paul VI arrive at such a pronouncement?” An extensive commentary on the encyclical is beyond the scope of this letter, but it will suffice for the moment to say that the Holy Father considered two points: the social situation of his time (and indeed of ours) and an authentic interpretation of the moral law. Very early in the encyclical, Pope Paul VI recognizes that “the changes that have taken place are of considerable importance” (HV 2). He comments on the rapid increase in population and the incommensurate increase in resources, and therefore the difficulty of raising a large family.

However, he is quick to clarify that while the Church encourages parents to be responsible in planning their families, responsible parenthood “concerns the objective moral order which was established by God and of which a right conscience (italics ours) is the true interpreter” (HV 10). Neither the Church nor the Pope can invent the truth about the sanctity of human life and the divine gift that is the sexual faculty. They can only articulate and clarify it, but never create it. In our effort to be a Church for the Poor and to look at reality from the poor’s perspective, we remember that it is only Jesus who is “the Way, the Truth and the Life” (John 14:6) and we look to the Church and the Pope, to whom the keys were given, for guidance and counsel.

A third objection surfaces, “What of the primacy of conscience?” The position paper of the professors states, “Catholic social teachings similarly recognize the primacy of the well-formed conscience over wooden compliance to directives from political and religious authorities” (page 13). While it is true that our conscience always bids us to follow its voice, “in the depths of his conscience, man detects a law which he does not impose upon himself, but which holds him in obedience” (Gaudium et Spes 16).

Following one’s conscience is therefore not a matter of what one “feels” or “thinks” to be right or wrong. Rather, conscience must stand as a “witness to the authority of truth (italics ours) in reference to the supreme Good to which the human person is drawn” (Catechism of the Catholic Church 177). The Catechism quotes John Henry Cardinal Newman who says, “[Conscience] is a messenger of him, who, both in nature and in grace, speaks to us behind a veil, and teaches and rules us by his representatives” (ibid. 1778). The task of conscience is therefore not to invent truth, but to discern what is true by listening to the voice of Jesus echoed by and through the Church.

It is important to understand that this argument does not lead to a “wooden compliance to directives.” Our faith, in St. Anselm’s words, is a faith that seeks understanding, fides quaerens intellectum. Catholics therefore do not blindly obey teachings just because they come from the Church. Rather, their faith bids them to seek to understand the mind, heart and spirit of the Church and make them his own.

In the Gospel of St. John, when the Lord told the crowd, “I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world” (6:51), some of his disciples said, “This is a hard saying; who can accept it?” (6:60). “As a result of this, many of his disciples returned to their former way of life and no longer accompanied him” (6:66). GK Chesterton poetically articulated this attitude when he said, “The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and left untried.”

We are similarly faced with a “hard saying”—a faithful and true saying, but hard nevertheless. The Church is not blind to the plight of women, the poor and our young people, but as Gaudencio Cardinal Rosales recently affirmed, this issue is not simply a matter of demographics, economics or sociology. “It’s an ethical issue… It’s a moral issue.” The Church cannot alter the truth about the sanctity of life and the sexual faculty to provide a ready answer to our social dilemma. Catholics whose consciences are good and well formed, and are docile to the honest but firm voice of the Church are bound by conscience not to support the RH Bill. Rather, faced with strong opposition from every side, they turn to our Lord together with St. Peter and exclaim, “Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life!” (John 6:68).

Paul Christopher Cheng
AB Economics-Honors 2008
paulcheng29@yahoo.com

Varsolo Sunio
BS Physics-CE 2007
var_sunio@yahoo.com

Gino Antonio Trinidad
AB Political Science 2008
gtrinidad@myway.com

Plenary Indulgences on the Pauline Year

2008-07-08T02:24:32Z

Pope Benedict XVI has declared June 28, 2008 to June 29, 2009 as Pauline Year. The celebration, which marks the 2,000th anniversary of the Apostle's birth, focuses on rediscovering the person of St. Paul and his teachings, improving unity amongst Christians, and doing pilgrimages to places associated with his life. On this occasion, the Pope has granted special indulgences not only to the faithful who undertake a pilgrimage to the Basilica of St. Paul Outside the Walls in Rome, but also to those who could not go to Rome but can fulfill certain conditions. Those who are not in Rome can obtain a plenary indulgence "if, having fulfilled the required conditions (sacramental Confession, Eucharistic Communion, prayers for the Supreme Pontiff's intentions) and in a spirit of total detachment from any inclination to sin, they participate devotedly in a religious function or in a pious exercise held publicly in honor of the Apostle of the Gentiles: on the days of the solemn opening and closing of the Pauline Year in any place of worship; on other days determined by the local ordinary, in holy places named for St. Paul and, for the good of the faithful, in other places designated by the ordinary." In addition, the sick or those who legitimately cannot leave their homes can obtain the indulgence if, in a spirit of detachment from any inclination to sin, with the intention of fulfilling the usual conditions as soon as possible, they "spiritually unite themselves to a jubilee celebration in honor of St. Paul, offering their prayers and suffering to God for the unity of Christians."

Squares and Pieces

2008-06-20T02:56:04Z

I cannot remember very well when I started to dislike basketball, but I do remember clearly how I used to love it. I was in third grade when I started playing the game. My father, who in his college days was a basketball player, taught to me the basic skills. My interest in this game reached its zenith when we resided at Pavia Street in Tondo, Manila. I called it may “hometown” because my parents always have something to tell about their childhood days there. They talked about how they were able when they were young to watch television shows through the window of a neighbor and the way the people around us were connected, either by blood or by proximity. In those days, I always went outside and played basketball with my cousins nearby. Our games would be from afternoon until night, sometimes with breaks in between, sometimes none at all. When we played at night, I know my father would see me and I would see him holding a bottle of beer and laughing with his friends. My basketball skills considerably improved, especially my perimeter shots, that I never do lay-ups in games, although my father would tirelessly teach me the techniques of doing the lay-up, for I had the height (I was a tall guy for my age then). I always wanted to play, yet I had to stop when we moved to Caloocan City, for another day in Tondo would make my father a drunkard, my mother crazy, and me a little nine year-old boy who knows nothing but to shoot the basketball into the hoop.

I think it was in the house we rented at Caloocan that I started to detach myself from basketball and moved myself into a new passion: chess. It is the only game to which I dedicated myself. The dedication was somehow intrinsic and perhaps intensified by our moving to Caloocan. As Cesar Ruiz Aquino acknowledged in his Palanca Award-winning short story “Stories:” “Chess is more often than not the passion of a lonely man.”

Our house at Caloocan was considerably good though we had to pay 3000 pesos for it; a working (and long) sink, a relatively large room, screened windows at the upper part of the right wall, a clean bathroom, a waxed shiny floor, and a cool atmosphere inside completed the scene. However, we had to tell to the owners as to the time we would get sufficient water for the week because the faucets were not working. I did not get to enjoy that house fully for I was always at my aunt’s house that was walking distance from us. I always went there not only to help my grandmother take care of my younger cousins, nor only to get out from boredom because I would be the only person inside our house, but also because of my elder cousin, who shared my loneliness.

Kuya Francis came from Isabela and is three years older than me. When we first met, he immediately asked me if I had a chess set. When we first played against each other using a small, magnetic chess set, I always lost. My losses were embarrassing as he mated me within only four moves, which I found out later as the Scholar’s mate. It is the mating attack done with only a queen and a bishop, abusing the weak black king’s bishop pawn (or the f7 square). Instead of watching the paid window-shopping product promotions and other variety and drama shows that populate the afternoon TV schedule, we would spend the whole day looking at the chessboard, thinking of what moves to make, analyzing the board, and in the end I’d see my plans crash and there would be nothing left to do but to concede. Even when we were fetching a pail of water, or cleaning the house, or washing the dishes, or just plain looking after our younger cousins, we would talk about chess. There was also this instance that we delayed the time or our elders’ shopping schedule because we were playing the game which could have been my first win if only I had given up some of my pieces and ensured my pieces’ strength. Even before we slept, we would play a couple of games that was enough to make us sleep at around twelve midnight. Unfortunately, by the time I had gained much prowess, wit, and confidence in my game, I was not able to use them against him, for my family moved to another house at Tondo (different from the first) and with that we seldom played against each other. I last saw him when I was an incoming first year high school student, and never got in touch with him since he went back to Isabela during those times.

When I was in fifth grade, a friend of mine gave me as a present a book about chess, although he did not know a single thing about playing chess except, of course, the moves of the pieces. His name was Kris. In those days, we would always be together after class and do many things at their house. There was an instance when we cooked popcorn and spent the whole afternoon watching a marathon of movies (Notting Hill was my favorite, although I was not able to finish it). We would plan our group works there, whether it is a drama or a simple class report. Almost all of my classmates – and of course, me – would go to their house, either doing some important class requirement or just bumming around watching TV or reading any kind of book. Although we did not have any chess game played against each other, I know he shared my loneliness. Apparently, we would never have any chess game to play against each other, for it has been three long years since I last saw him. I never got in touch with him again since he stopped studying at Manila Science High School when we were second year high school students.

Reading the book my friend gave me, I learned some basic concepts regarding the game. I kept a fixed time at night to read the book, sometimes forgetting that I had something to do that was more important than chess. I began to lock myself up inside the house just reading the book. When I was able to purchase my own wooden chess set, I began to play by myself, following the sample games in the book. There were three concepts that I always keep in mind for they are the ones that truly suited my style of play and made my game deadly. The first is the placing of the pieces on their most appropriate square. The appropriate square for a certain piece is that square wherein the piece has the greatest mobility or freedom of movement and threat potential. Placing any piece in such a square creates an attacking position valuable in destroying the defense of the opponent. At the same time, it also adds up to the effectiveness of the defense if the player is a defense-oriented wood pusher. The second is exchanging pieces in cramped positions. A cramped position is a position wherein most–if not all–the pieces have decreased freedom of movement and threat potential. It is the product of bad positioning of the pieces, that is, when the pieces are not in their appropriate squares. Exchanging pieces not in their appropriate squares would free some of the pieces and therefore open the possibility of recreating an attacking position. However, one should raise the bar by not only thinking of exchanging pieces as a way of freeing some material, but also–and more importantly–as an opportunity to gain either material advantage (greater number of pieces than that of the opponent) or positional advantage (attacking positions, which gives more momentum). The third is exchanging pieces when you are ahead in material. Again, one should be wise in making such exchanges, keeping in mind that the goal is to simplify the game into kings and pawns and around one or two major pieces approaching the end game. Simplification would increase the chances of winning.

When I was an incoming freshman at Manila Science High School, I stumbled upon a neighbor–later a friend–who is a legitimate, rated player named Richard. I started to fetch water from the faucets outside the house that summer, for the faucets inside do not work. It was my responsibility then to ensure there would be enough water for us to use the coming night and the day after. I used a large basin to have a steady source, and it would take me around twenty buckets full of water to fill all the containers inside. Apparently, my friend also did the same thing as I do at also the same time–at around two in the afternoon. Before I knew it, he asked me if I had a chess set and if I know how to play; said yes and arranged the pieces, and in no time, we were playing chess. We played regularly that I sometimes forget to watch the news about the new president and her plans for the country in the future. I also forgot to appreciate the significance of the first impeachment trial of a president in the Philippines.

Playing against him was tough, for he won even if he lacked a certain piece. In our first match, he had complete pieces, and the result was total destruction of my game. I had pieces that lacked mobility, their positions completely defenseless, and threats fully anticipated. When he gave me a partida, with him playing without his queen, I still had a hard time. I forgot that I had material advantage, and it would only take some good positioning of the pieces for me to pull off a win. I had my first win (with him still having no queen) by forcing him to make some inevitable exchanges. For example, I made him take my knight that pinned a piece with a knight far more threatening than mine. I pulled off my second win through some clever positioning of my men (particularly my bishop, which made me like it more than a knight). There was also a game that I made a triangular formation out of my pawns so hard to penetrate his knights’ game was destroyed. After two more wins, he began to change the partida from lacking a queen to lacking two rooks. I immediately defeated him in that game, for without a rook, he could not castle, and therefore expose his king to mating attacks. I just forced him to exchange queens and attacked the kingside. However, when the partida was reduced to only lacking a rook, I was not able to defeat him in any way. I could have had defeated him though and advance to the next level–that of playing against him with complete pieces–in the next two years. However, that did not come–and would never–for in no way did I got in touch with him again since his family moved to another house when I was in third year.

What I learned that summer, I immediately applied the coming school year, as I played chess with other schoolmates. Once I played a game wherein I knew I placed my knight in the wrong square. I did what I had to do; I started to orchestrate a couple of moves that created an exchanging situation, but I lost the game in the end. There was a game wherein my attack came from the good positioning of my queen and bishop (both gained control of consecutive diagonals). I pulled through a game by exchanging my bishop and knight; it deflected and destroyed the mating attack. I lost a game because the diagonals of my bishops were blocked by my own pawns. I lost an almost perfect game by placing my knight on a weak square. I pulled through a crucial game because of the good positioning of the pawns guarding my king. I lost a crucial game because my attack on the opponent’s bishop was not founded on sound positioning (I lost my queen in the process).

My father and I also had some chess games played against each other. However, he was an easier deal than my kuya Francis or Richard. His attacks were very easy to destroy. Once he orchestrated an attack using his bishop and queen. I destroyed it by capturing his bishop and checking his king with my queen. He did not have flexible plans; he was a one-time-big-time kind of wood pusher. Our games, most of the time, were played inside the house, after I had filled every water container in the bathroom and bought a refill of our drinking water. We did not have regular schedules, however, for most of the time I was just listening to the radio, facing my books, taking notes, and memorizing lines while he was watching the television for the latest news about the impeached president and whatever happened to the economy after EDSA 2. There was no time for us to play, for I needed to wake up early to prepare for school while he needed to wake up early to prepare my breakfast and accompany me to school, which was a jeepney ride away. There was no time for us to play because whenever my mother suffered from headache, he would cook the food we would eat for the night and administer whatever needs to be. It consoles me to think that he was the better basketball player, and I the better chess player. He could have taught me more about basketball: dribbling, passing, running, shooting, orchestrating a play, making a lay-up. I could have taught him in turn how to orchestrate an attack and have some flexible plans in chess. Unfortunately, we had our last match in both games when I was in second year high, for come my third year he died of cancer.

Chess is just a matter of making good use of the losses. Somehow, one must accept that losses are inevitable to understand life; that however hurting the loss maybe, it cannot be stopped. Life is a matter of being courageous to lose some things (or even people), although the reason is not yet clear enough.

People come and go. Chess pieces at play come and go. People live in a place then leave, never knowing when to return or if such a return would be possible. Chess pieces at play dwell on a square then leaves, never knowing when to return or if such a return would be possible. Nothing is permanent in life; no one can always have the things he needs and the objects that comforts him. More often than not, he is taken out of his comfort zone to plunge into the abyss of the realities of life. Nothing is permanent in chess; no piece can always have the same comfortable position that it has (even the king needs to be moved at times). More often than not, a piece is taken out of its comfort zone to plunge into the abyss of the realities of the chess game.

We are the players as well as the pieces of the game.

Strolling at the ground floor of Berchmans Hall, I see some of the students playing the game I loved and will always love. As I watch them make the classical opening (e4–e4), I remember the thin right hand of my kuya Francis and the way he places his index finger to the square I am thinking to move my piece. I remember the 101 variations of Richard in the classical opening and his dangerous, overwhelming question before I make my move: “Sigurado ka na ba diyan?” I remember the way my father would look too serious as he gets hold of his pawn by placing it between his right thumb, index, and middle finger, and then smile at me when he had finished placing the piece onto the square.

unang post (muli)

2007-06-09T08:11:41Z

(Humigit-kumulang dalawang taon na ang nakalilipas mula noong una ko itong isinulat, at ang inilagay ko rito ngayon ay ang edited version; ang first version ay makikita sa link na ito: http://moshies.blogspot.com/2005_05_01_archive.html, maraming salamat)

pisong hindi bumabalik

sabi nila, hindi mabubuo
ang isang daan
kung wala ang piso

sabi ko, hindi ako
makakapagpadala ng mensahe
kung wala ang piso

sabi nila, sa panahon ngayon,
hindi dapat na malugi
kahit na isang piso

sabi ko, kapag hawak na ang
telepono, bahala na ang piso

sabi nila ngayong taghirap,
ipunin kahit na piso

sabi ko, kahit mahirap,
gagastos ako ng piso

basta ba naaalala kita

sabi nila, ngayong hikahos,
walang makain ang mga tao,
at bagsak ang ekonomiya,
wala nang halaga ang piso

sabi ko, ngayong ikaw lang
ang nasa isip ko,
may halaga ang piso

dahil sa bawat mensaheng
pinaaandar ng piso kong
kakarampot kung tutuusin,
kalakip doon ang bawat sandaling
iniisip kita at inaalala kita

kahit hindi na minsan bumabalik ang pisong pinaandar ng mensahe