14 JULY 2005

Going Into Battle
By: Nikko Viquiera, B25

The torrential rains have forced me to spend my weekends in my room watching old Greek and Roman movies, which are almost always about a bunch of guys going into war for love of God and country. In these movies, war is often preceded by the people celebrating the bravery of their soldiers who may return victorious over their enemies or dead in the hands of vicious antagonists. The Romans, before going to the battlefield, offered animal sacrifices to Mars, the god of war, that he may lead them into victory. The tapping of the rain on my window together with the sappy music and slow-motion scenes from these war movies inevitably draw me back to the JVP’s own ritual of goodbye: the Mission Mass.

A few months ago, following tradition, my batchmates (Batch 25) and I were asked to help organize the Mission Mass for the 28 members of Batch 26. The Mass was held on the 28th of May and was celebrated by Fr. Danny Huang, provincial of the Society of Jesus, and concelebrated by Fr. Ben Nebres, President of the Ateneo de Manila University; Fr. Mario Francisco, outgoing National Chaplain of JVP; Fr. Jojo Magadia; Fr. Fruto Ramirez; and Fr. Gobrin. The Mass was also attended by friends of JVP in the Ateneo community and the social development sector, former JVP volunteers, and the families and friends of the Batch 26 volunteers.

When I look back at my own Mission Mass a year ago, I see an incomplete picture with certain spots blurred by the beating of a nervous and nostalgic heart and a confusing mixture of laughter and tears. I see faces I have known for years saying goodbye and faces I do not even know saying welcome. I feel a strange weight that seems to burden me yet at the same time lifts me to heights I have never known. Attending the Mass for the newest JVP recruits gave me the opportunity to reflect better on the meaning and importance of the Mission Mass to me, personally, and to the entire JVP community. It has given me the chance to fill in the blanks of a memory weakened by time and emotion.

The Mass, akin to the celebration of the Greeks and Romans, also celebrates the courage of the young volunteers - soldiers, who dare take on the battle against injustice and poverty with their hands and minds as swords and hope and faith as shields. But unlike the ancient celebrations, the Mission Mass is marked not with wealth and flamboyant display of fireworks but with song and silence that welcome the One who will walk with the volunteers to their areas of service. Unlike the Roman soldiers who were given gold and flowers for their willingness to die in battle, the volunteers are given simple crosses that symbolize the JVP core values and remind them that they will never be truly alone in their own battlefields.

In the movies, children are always shown standing in the sidelines, emulating the brave soldiers in their war games. The celebrations that precede the war were not only meant to raise the morale of the troops but also to inspire the people to believe, hope and love. In the same way, the volunteers are also meant to bring hope to the people around them. For as long as there are those who are willing to take the leap that begins with a small step, all is not lost.

But I believe that the biggest difference between the ancient celebrations and the JVP Mission Mass is in our perception of victory. For the soldiers who go to war, victory is felt when one successfully comes home alive. When there is less death in the troops, there is more triumph. But for the volunteers who will be sent to the poorest areas of the country, victory becomes real only when death is present. Certainly, we are not talking about literal death. A certain death happens within the volunteers as they go through their year of service. It could be the death of a self rooted in selfishness, greed, apathy or ignorance that hinder them from becoming one with the poor. And it is only after this dying that they are reborn into persons whose minds are more open, hearts more sensitive and hands more generous. In the process of dying, so they can be reborn, they are also giving new lives to the people that they serve.

I remember looking at the volunteers of Batch 26 and realizing that they, too, know about this death which they must face. In the deepest corners of their hearts, they know that once they say goodbye to everyone and everything they have known their entire lives, set foot on that boat, put faces on the blurry figures of people welcoming them; once they embrace the burden that is a gift from God, they, too, will experience death but eventually find new life. They are frightened because they know that once they start walking the path that leads to those who have been forgotten, they will never be the same. They will come home to their family and friends a different person, wounded and changed. They are frightened but I know they will not break down because there is also strength that springs from the love and hope that they inspire in the people around them.

The Mission Mass is often perceived as an opportunity for the volunteers to formally say goodbye to their loved ones who have been instrumental to their growth. But more than that, I think, the Mission Mass is a ritual that welcomes the volunteers into a life and not just ten months that is often tiring, and frustrating, but at the end of the day, necessary and fulfilling. Ma’am Jo Maribojoc, the JVP Executive Director, told Batch 26 that going to their different areas is also a “coming home” for them: “Now, as you, volunteers of Batch 26, go to your areas of assignment, you will not be leaving, but making home bigger. You are bringing the love, compassion, security, selflessness and hope you experienced in your home to conquer the isolation, vulnerability and powerlessness that cause the poverty of the people you will be serving.”

Today Batch 26 is in their areas of assignment building new homes for their new families.

Outside, the drumming of the rain dances with thunder and lightning and pulls me away from the grips of nostalgia. In my room, the Roman soldiers cheer and scream their looming victory. But within me there are also growing thunder claps that once more celebrate the humbling wounds of death, hope and life.