17 hours ago
6
Upgrade to High-Speed Internet for only ₱1499/month!
Enjoy up to 100 Mbps fiber broadband, perfect for browsing, streaming, and gaming.
Visit Suniway.ph to learn
Days before the conclave that elected Pope Leo XIV, Al Jazeera correspondent Barnaby Lo went to the Rappler newsroom to interview me about Filipinos and the next pope.
Barnaby, along with his crew, wanted me to give my reading of the Filipino Catholic Church’s preference: “Do Filipinos want someone who will continue Pope Francis’ liberal stance on issues, or one who is stricter in terms of doctrine?”
A subtext of the question was: How was it that Filipinos love the “liberal” Francis while staying “conservative” on matters such as divorce and same-sex marriage?
First, I said in the Al Jazeera interview, Francis never changed a thing in Catholic doctrine. Till the end, Francis was a sharp critic of divorce and same-sex marriage, as well as abortion and “gender ideology.” The late pontiff, however, pushed for compassion, which made all the difference.
His reform was not doctrinal but pastoral. In the words of a Vatican analyst, Francis kept the lyrics but changed the music.
Having said that, I believe that the liberal-versus-conservative spectrum — especially in the context of elections — is a Western framework. Except for those exposed to Western concepts (many of whom are educated and have access to Western media), Filipinos do not commonly view leaders in terms of who is liberal or conservative.
In this Asian society characterized by strong kinship over the centuries, we often view our leaders in terms of family relations.
That is why former president Rodrigo Duterte is “Tatay Digong” (Daddy Digong) and former president Corazon Aquino is “Tita Cory” (Auntie Cory). That is why political dynasties persist: We view them as well-off, even if distant, “family members,” who can protect and support our own families in times of need. They are our fathers and mothers, uncles and aunts; we are one.
That, I surmise, is why we Filipinos loved Francis: we found kinship in him. His simplicity, folksy style, spontaneity, and zest for life (he laughs with gusto like in a family reunion!) made him a “Filipino” pope. His pakikisama — his ability to get along with others — made him one of us. We even coined a Filipino nickname for him: “Lolo Kiko” (Grandpa Kiko).
Francis, in turn, loved Filipinos so much. Two weeks ago, I wrote on “The Wide Shot” how Francis opened up — and initiated a chat — when I told him in a private audience that I am Filipino. He even appointed Filipinos to high positions at the Vatican, and praised Filipino migrants as “smugglers of the faith,” spreading Christianity to different parts of the world.
The way Filipinos judge a pope (or any leader) is not by asking: Is the person liberal or conservative? Rightly or wrongly, we ask: Is the person one of us?
This is also why many Filipinos yearned for a Filipino pope, in the person of Cardinal Luis Antonio Tagle or Cardinal Pablo Virgilio David.
It is not, however, a kind of “Filipino pride” that makes noise simply to brag to the world about one of our own.
It is, in my view, a yearning for representation.
The Philippines is home to 86 million Catholics (nearly 80% of our people), the country with the biggest Catholic population in Asia and the third biggest in the world.
Yet, in the College of Cardinals, we only have three cardinal electors — still a small number, even if it is historically the biggest number of Filipinos in a conclave.
If we look at the data, a number of countries with fewer Catholics have more electors than the Philippines. India, with around 17 million Catholics (1.55% of the population), has four electors. The United States, with 64.6 million Catholics (22.6% of the population), has nine.
Yes, the College of Cardinals is not like the Philippine Congress. But proportional representation is not merely about politics. It is about equity.
In many places around the world, including Europe and even Singapore, where I studied religion for a year, Filipino migrants fill the churches every Sunday and play active roles in church organizations. Yet in many ways, they feel like second-class citizens, holding events in alternative venues or getting eye rolls from “native” church members.
Our longing for a Filipino pope — or one with Filipino attributes — speaks of our desire for greater belongingness in a global church. It is, after all, a church that is not immune to discrimination, despite the rise of Filipino Catholics in different parts of the world.
So it was not surprising that minutes after Cardinal Robert Prevost was introduced as Pope Leo XIV on Thursday, May 8 (Rome time), photos of him in different parts of the Philippines went viral on social media. There was Prevost in Cebu, Iloilo, Laguna, and Manila, when he visited the country at least three times as the global head of the Augustinian religious order.
In one of these photos, Prevost was seen sharing a meal with Cardinal Gaudencio Rosales, then the archbishop of Manila, with a bottle of the Philippines’ popular San Miguel beer in front of him. In the Philippines, it always makes us feel giddy when a foreign guest drinks San Mig or enjoys Filipino cuisine.
Prevost, who worked as a missionary in Peru for around two decades, knows pakikisama.
Augustinian priest Father Dante Bendoy, prior provincial or head of the Augustinians in the Philippines, said it was a good sign that Prevost visited the country several times in the past. “I would say he loves the Philippines,” Bendoy told me in a phone interview on Friday, May 9.
Father Peter Casiño, local prior of Seminario San Agustin Intramuros, said in a separate interview at San Agustin Church, “We feel that he has a burning heart for Filipinos, and he likes to be with Filipinos.”
Will Leo soon have a nickname like Lolo Kiko?
We can only hope that our yearning to find a Filipino in Leo, the first American pope, will make us better citizens of the world. We cannot simply end with “Filipino pride.” We need to use it for the greater good. Only then can we transcend criticism that Filipinos rooted for a Filipino pope only as a matter of pride, treating the conclave like a national election or a beauty pageant.
Leo laid out the big picture, a blueprint for his pontificate, in his first “Urbi et Orbi” (To the City and to the World) address: “We want to be a synodal Church, a Church that moves forward, a Church that always seeks peace, that always seeks charity, that always seeks to be close above all to those who are suffering.”
Let not his decision to wear the traditional red mozzetta after his election, unlike Francis, distract from the essentials. The first Augustinian pope is different from Francis but is not his antithesis, as traditionalists try to portray the new pontiff.
Leo’s reference to a “synodal Church” is not merely a sign. “Synodal” comes from the Greek syn-hodos (“walking together”). An emphasis on “synodality” — the grand project of the first Jesuit pontiff — refers to a more consultative, dialogical way of proceeding even as the Church remains hierarchical with the pope as its head.
When Leo said “we want to be a synodal Church,” it was a definitive pronouncement: Leo is a pope of continuity, although in the more formal, regimented style of the Order of Saint Augustine.
The Pope’s choice of the name Leo was more telling. In the words of Serbia’s Cardinal Ladislav Nemet, who once served as chaplain at the University of San Carlos in Cebu, “His name is his program.”
Explaining his papal name, Leo told the College of Cardinals on Saturday, May 10: “There are different reasons for this, but mainly because Pope Leo XIII in his historic encyclical Rerum Novarum addressed the social question in the context of the first great industrial revolution. In our own day, the Church offers to everyone the treasury of her social teaching in response to another industrial revolution and to developments in the field of artificial intelligence that pose new challenges for the defense of human dignity, justice, and labor.”
It speaks much to a country that, even before AI, has been unable to give jobs to its people, forcing them to seek employment abroad.
Is the Filipino ready for Leo? – Rappler.com
The Wide Shot is a Sunday column on religion and public life. If you have suggested topics or feedback, let us know in the faith chat room of the Rappler Communities app.
