SMALL IS GOOD...OR HOW I GOT TO HOLD A SAINT'S HAND...TWICE

When the late Father Tony Perez, our Minor Seminary Rector, told us in the fall of 1980 that the Pope was coming to Guam in February, besides many other things, I already "figured" out that I shouldn't expect to be able to get near him or touch him.

I reasoned that, as a college-level seminarian, I'd be put way in the back somewhere while dignitaries from Oceania, Asia and the U.S. would take the prime spots, followed by the local clergy and so on.

As it turned out, the seminarians, dressed in cassocks and surplices, were able to sit in the 3rd or 4th pews in the nave of the Cathedral on the evening the Pope arrived, to speak to the clergy, religious and lay leaders. Admission was by invitation only.  The Cathedral was standing room only, but we were up front.

More than that, I was seated towards the outer edge of my row.  The other end of that pew was by the central aisle, where the Pope would walk down.  So I cancelled all thought of ever touching him.  Except that, at some point, the Pope came down to us, touched everyone in the front row that you see in the photo, then turned to my side of the pews, the side facing the Cathedral walls.

That's how I was able to stand on the pew, reach over heads and touch his hand.  Every so briefly, but touch it I did.

You can see me standing on the pew in the pic above, in cassock and surplice, my left hand touching the back of my head or my neck.  I was facing the direction the Pope was moving.

The next day, the Pope said Mass in the middle of the street in Agaña.  I knew better than to expect to compete with a larger crowd this time.  And, sure enough, I wasn't able to get anywhere near the Pope.  But I was already happy I touched his hand the night before.

Then, after the Mass, I had to drive some visiting clergy to the airport.  But I wasn't expecting to be told, once I got to the airport, that we were to park, get down and wait in line right on the tarmac.  In line for what?  After a half-hour wait, I found out what.  In comes the papal limousine onto the tarmac, where we had been waiting, standing in a long line which you can see in the pic above.

Believe it or not, the Pope got out of his limo and greeted every single one in that long line you see above. Well, he was younger then and he was a robust, healthy man.  So I got to hold his hand again.  This time it was one-on-one.  He was right in front of me and he looked straight into my eyes.  I managed to stifle a "How ya doin', Your Holiness?"  and quietly kissed his ring and genuflected.

Many years later, as Capuchin Superior of Guam and Hawaii, I had to attend an international meeting of Capuchins in Rome in the year 2000.  Part of the agenda was a private audience with the Pope.  Just him and 200 friars.  Friars were anxious to get good seats in a fancy hall in the papal chambers.  I purposely stayed in the back of the room, with empty chairs on both sides of me so I could stretch out.  A friar asked me, "Aren't you excited?"  I said, "You see this hand?  Touched him on Guam in 1981....twice."

I also got to touch Pope Paul VI in 1972.  But that story's for later.

Being from a small island like Guam has its advantages.

We may still have to compete with 1 or 2 thousand people in some event, like a papal visit.  But not ten or a hundred thousand or more.

And if they ever ask you to be a driver....say "yes."

JOKE OF THE DAY : THE 1ST EASTER WAS ABOUT A PAGAN GODDESS

This bit of silliness is so lacking in evidence, based on a weak coincidence, that it really is a bad joke.  But since huge numbers of people are easily influenced by this kind of garbage, let's take it apart, bit by bit :

EASTER : You mean the annual feast of Christians celebrating the resurrection of Jesus from the dead? 

WAS ORIGINALLY : You mean the first time (originally) that Christians got together for a feast called Easter, it had nothing to do with Christ, but was instead a feast to celebrate the Babylonian/Assyrian sex and fertility goddess Ishtar?  If this is true, how could these Christians have been Christians at all?  What made them Christians in the first place if the Easter they were celebrating was a feast of Ishtar?

What evidence is there that the early Christian worshipped Ishtar?  Do we have religious art in the catacombs depicting early Christian worship of Ishtar?  Early Christian writings talking about early Christian worship of Ishtar?  No?

Funny, because we have early Christian art depicting and writings talking about the worship of Christ, and His rising from the dead.  Long before Constantine.

No, the evidence is clear that, from the beginning of Christianity, Christians believed in the resurrection of Jesus from the dead.  Early Christianity had nothing to do with Ishtar.

AFTER CONSTANTINE DECIDED TO CHRISTIANIZE THE EMPIRE : He allowed Christians to worship freely; to worship Christ, and celebrate His resurrection - something Christians had been doing for almost 300 years already by the time of Constantine.

EASTER WAS CHANGED TO REPRESENT JESUS : What's the proof of this statement?  Can we find an official document showing us that Constantine said, "I am changing Easter."  None?

The statement is that Constantine "changed" Easter; he didn't "invent" Easter.  So there was an Easter prior to Constantine.  What was this Easter?  The worship of Ishtar?  By whom?  By Christians?  That doesn't make sense.

Oh, by other people?  The pagans?  Then why "change" Easter?  What is there "to change" if Christians had already been celebrating the resurrection of Jesus?  The poster would make a whole lot more sense if it claimed that Constantine prohibited the worship of Ishtar, and compelled everyone to observe the Easter of Christians.  But Constantine did neither, as well!  What he did do was allow Christians, and any others who worshipped differently,  to practice their religion with freedom.  Edict of Milan, in the year 313.

Later emperors - not Constantine - waged a war against pagan worship in the Empire.  But there was never a question of changing a pagan feast called Easter from the worship of Ishtar to the celebration of Christ's resurrection.  Christians have been honoring that resurrection from the beginning.

ISHTAR - EASTER

The whole idea in this poster is based on a flimsy coincidence between the name of Ishtar and the Christian feast Easter.

It's a flimsy coincidence because "Easter" is merely the common (not official) English name of the feast.  Constantine never called Easter "Easter."   Constantine was not English.  The Greek and Roman Christians during the time of Constantine called Easter "Pascha," as the Greeks do today and as it is still known in Latin in the Roman Church.

Again, it's clear there is no connection between a pagan goddess from Babylonia/Assyria, and an old English word "Easter," many miles away, with the Greek and Roman lands lying in between.

The official name of this feast, no matter the language, is the "Sunday of the Resurrection of the Lord."

 

OTHER UNPROVEN CLAIMS

That Ishtar is (or was) pronounced Easter.  Scholars have studied the Babylonian writing system pretty well, and they all say Ishtar sounds like, well, Ishtar.

That eggs and bunnies were her symbols.  From ancient art depicting Ishtar, we can actually say what were her symbols, and eggs and bunnies never appear among them.

Eggs and bunnies are symbols of fertility, which means life.  Christ rose from the dead.  No surprise then, that Christians, in an informal and unofficial way, used earthly, known symbols of life and fertility to express their understanding of the Easter event.

Ancient Christians used different symbols to represent the resurrection of Jesus (and of ours, one day).  The peacock was one such symbol.  Folk belief was that the skin of the peacock never decays.  The peacock sheds its feathers once a year, only to grow more beautiful ones.  Christians saw this as a kind of resurrection - falling away only to bring forth a more glorious life.

THE CAPUCHINS AND NATIONALISM

An Irish Capuchin who gave spiritual assistance to the Irish rebels in the 1916 Easter Rising

CLOSE TO THE COMMON PEOPLE

From the very beginning, Capuchins have been close to the common people, the people of the land.  The great majority of Capuchins themselves came from the common people.  Though some friars came from noble families, and though some friars ministered to and had influence over high-ranking people, the touch of the Capuchin friar was most felt among the simple people of the land.

Capuchins preached to the common people in a simple and direct way which people appreciated.  Capuchins were fearless in going into the homes of the poor when diseases were killing off people in epidemics.  It was this love from the common people that saved the necks of the Capuchins when others tried to attack them.

So some Capuchins have always been involved in cultural and national causes. 

THE IRISH EASTER RISING OF 1916

On Easter Monday, April 24, 1916, a small and ill-fated rebellion broke out in Dublin, Ireland against the British who were still ruling the country.

The Easter Rising failed and the Irish nationalist leaders, mostly Catholic, were arrested and most sentenced to death.

It was Capuchin friars who went to give them spiritual care during and after the fighting.  A hall in a Capuchin church served as a temporary hospital for the wounded.  In the violence of 1922, Capuchins were right in the building being attacked, staying with the men to bless any of the fallen and wounded, while the bullets flew.

Irish Capuchin friars became chaplains to the rebel leaders sentenced to death.  The friars heard their confessions and prepared them for the firing squad.  As soon as the man was shot, the Capuchin walked over to the body to give a blessing.  One Capuchin asked one of the condemned if he would say a prayer for the very soldiers about to shoot him dead.  They were, after all, soldiers who were doing what they thought was right.  Those soldiers saw themselves as doing their duty.  The friar did not want the Irish leader to die with anger, but to forgive as Christ had forgiven His enemies.

The Irish leader said, "I do, Father.  I respect every man who does his duty."

Father Albert Biddy, OFM Cap, ministered to Irish rebels and was arrested by the British as well

CULTURAL ADVOCACY

The Irish had been under British rule for 400 years and much of their culture had been lost.  Fewer Irish were conversant in their own Irish language.

Irish Capuchins were at the forefront of the Irish cultural and linguistic revival.  They formed groups, conducted classes, promoted Irish sports, published in the Irish language.

AGAINST THE TIDE

Being a nationalist was not always popular - within the Order and within the Church.

Political issues are usually not so black and white.

While almost everyone agrees with the big principles, like political rights and respect for native culture, when one gets to specific means, that's when the disagreement starts.

The Irish bishops, for example, were sympathetic on the whole towards Irish aspirations for freedom and cultural revival.  But the majority of the bishops thought the armed struggle at the time was not the way to go about it.

Among the friars, too, there was not total agreement about the means to be employed in a cause that was, in general, honorable.

So these Irish Capuchins who went to the spiritual rescue of the rebels stood out.  While bishops and many priests stayed away from them, the brown-robed friars were seen standing shoulder to shoulder with the Irish rebels.

The position of the Capuchin chaplains was based on the salvation of souls.  Politics aside, the rebels were mostly Catholic and death was a real possibility for them.  That justified their assistance; hearing confessions and anointing the wounded.  It was this philosophy that enabled other Irish Capuchins to serve as chaplains in - the British Army!

ANOTHER GOOD REASON FOR THE OVERSEAS MISSIONS

Capuchins have always been missionaries, but one side benefit of having missions away from the home country is having a place to send nationalist friars who may get in trouble in the home country.

The Irish Capuchins, for example, had missions in Oregon, which at the time lacked sufficient priests.  A number of Irish nationalist friars were sent there to work, rather than remain in political controversy in Ireland.

THE BASQUE NATIONALIST CAPUCHINS

In Spain, the Basque region is populated by people who are proud of their separate race, culture and language. 

The area was at one time strongly Catholic and many young Basques became Capuchin friars.

Many, but not all, also became vocal Basque nationalists.

Father Román María de Vera was one such Basque nationalist

Many Basque Capuchins were strong advocates of their own cultural and linguistic revival.  Their famous college in Lecároz was an influential center in the Basque nationalist cause.

When their politics created problems with the government, some nationalistic Basque Capuchins were sent to their missions in Argentina.

Some of these Basque Capuchins were missionaries on Guam.  When the American Navy had them replaced by American Capuchins, some of these Basque friars could not return home to Spain, because the government of Francisco Franco would not welcome them if they were classified as nationalists.  So some went off to the Philippines (then under American administration) and others to South America.

Bishop Olano

The retired bishop of Guam, Bishop Olano, had a brother who was also a Capuchin priest and a Basque nationalist.  Olano's brother had to leave Spain because of this and went to work in Argentina instead.  When Bishop Olano could no longer remain as bishop on Guam, he could not go back to Spain, given his brother's situation.  So Bishop Olano went to the Philippines in 1945 and only in the 1960s did he return to Spain.

Bishop Olano's brother, Father Miguel, Basque cultural advocate, who had to flee Spain because of his support for Basque causes

THE STORY OF A PHOTO GOD "TOOK"

Men, they say, are notorious for being bad shoppers.  First of all, they don't like shopping.  Secondly, they are clueless what to get for someone.

I'm sure many men don't fit this description but I certainly do.

So what could I get, that would be meaningful, for a woman whose selfless dedication to a project to promote the love and knowledge of our Chamorro people knows no bounds?  She has put employment on hold so she can spend every waking moment on the I Am Chamorro documentary, which will showcase the history of the Chamorro people.

This ambitious project started out as a dream during a conversation we had in her Los Angeles kitchen.

We have raised quite a bit of money, and we need much more....but the love and support of our people in Guam, Saipan and the US mainland has been phenomenal.  This documentary will get done.  And it's thanks to this woman : Joanne Carbullido Tabor Modic.

She flew to Guam several weeks ago, with the blessings of her very supportive and helpful husband Rich Modic, whom I thank as well.  She extended her stay and will be back soon.  All so she can continue to sell t-shirts, drum up support and get the word out.

She leaves tomorrow back to LA.  So I wanted to get her a meaningful gift.  But what?

Two Sundays ago Joanne was at my Mass at the Friary.  I didn't know for sure if she were coming.  It was Candlemas, the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord.  I asked a gentleman in the congregation to take photos.  I didn't know if Joanne was coming; he didn't even know who Joanne was.  But, as people lit their candles, the photographer snapped this picture of Joanne lighting her candle for the procession.  Her pic was the ONLY one the photographer took of a single individual doing so.  All the other pics showed several or more individuals.

When I saw this pic, I knew that God arranged it.

Faith is a light.  When all seems dark, our faith keeps us going, like a beacon of light.  Joanne's faith in this documentary is such that, despite all the odds against raising thousands of dollars, she forges ahead with great faith.  Her faith is a light to me.  And here is a picture of her lighting a candle in church.

So I had the shop put HINENGGE at the bottom.  FAITH.

I couldn't have found a better parting gift.  And the Lord arranged it all behind our backs!

One of our I Am Chamorro shirts designed by our good friend Rex.  Available at :

www.iamchamorro.com

FROM HITLER YOUTH TO PROTESTANT MISSIONARY

Edmund and his wife Elisabeth

Around 2005 and 2006, I was in need of some significant help getting German texts translated into English.  I was working on a history of the German Capuchins in the Northern Marianas.

I got help from several people, but they were off-island and I still had a good number of archival documents that needed translating and needed it fast.  I couldn't wait for off-island help.

An American Jesuit recommended I ask Edmund Kalau, living in Jonestown, Guam.

The Jesuit let me know that Kalau was a Protestant missionary, flying airplanes in Micronesia which is dotted with hundreds of tiny atolls and islands.  I was told I would have no fear of being received cautiously.  In fact, I would encounter the opposite.  Kalau, he said, loved to engage and to converse.

So I rang him up and set a time to meet him.  Sure enough, after we talked business, he wanted to show me many things he had picked up in Micronesia and beyond.  He told me about his childhood as a Hitler Youth.  In his day, it was as if the whole world in his part of Germany was swept up in Hitler frenzy, believing that he was the savior of their country.

When Hitler failed them, many people looked for God.  He did.

The same happened, to a smaller degree, in Japan at the end of WW2.

I knew a Japanese husband and wife, now deceased, who were teenagers when they saw their country lose the war.  They became disillusioned with politics and an earthly paradise.  They looked for a Catholic priest and were baptized.

Kalau had those translations done in two weeks, so I know he tackled this work with commitment.  When I went to pick up the translations, he refused the $100 I offered him.

It was interesting because all the German works he put into English were dripping with Catholicism; traditional Catholicism.  Yet he never made any remarks about the content of what he translated.

He, an Evangelical Protestant pastor; me, a Catholic friar and priest, silently agreed to disagree and never made our religious differences an issue.  Had we interacted much more, I do not know how we would have handled our different perspectives.  But my sense is that he would have always been a gentleman.

I have friends of other faiths or no religious faith at all.  If they want to know why I believe the things I believe in, they ask with an open mind and I explain as best I can.  Most of the time they can't understand why I believe the things I do, even after I explain myself.  And then we call it a day.  We leave it at that.  We talk about a healthy diet next.

And then there are others who never seek to learn nor to understand.  They just want to beat their ideas into your head.  After one minute of that, I call it a day.  And we don't talk about a healthy diet or anything else after that.  Even Jesus kept His mouth closed in front of some people who had plenty of mouth but not much ears.

We pray for the dead, whether they had done us favors in life or not at all.  But kindness is repaid with kindness.  Kalau helped me and asked no favors back.  So I pray that the Lord reward him for that.  Kalau passed away some days ago.

I BELIEVE IN THE SAINTS

July of 1981.  I was in Montreal as a tourist.  But a Catholic one, so yes, churches interested me.  And there are many in French Montreal that are delight to the Catholic eye to see.

Then I heard of a church and the holy man who built it for the first time in my life.

I was advised by locals to visit the Oratory of Saint Joseph, built by one Brother André.

I had no idea who he was.

I had no clue that he was a simple brother in the Congregation of the Holy Cross.  That he was so simple and sickly that he was rejected once by the Congregation but was finally allowed to join.  Even then, they gave him one simple task for the next 40 years : answer the door and phone.

He was like many Capuchin saints - a porter.  But that job puts one in constant contact with visitors.  When some of them started to tell Brother André that they or someone they loved was sick, he would send them to St. Joseph.  "Pray to Saint Joseph!"  He would also visit the sick and rub on them some oil from a lamp that burned before an image of Saint Joseph.  People would get well.  Brother André would say, "Saint Joseph healed them."

The numbers seeking Brother André swelled.  He needed secretaries to help him answer letters.

As with almost all the saints of God, he suffered at the hands of the Church and his own community.  Some called him a hoax, a charlatan.  He was viewed with suspicion by many.  Priests complained that he brought too many people to the residence, too many to handle.

He was then assigned another place to receive his throngs of visitors.  When he died, one million people passed his coffin to pay their respects.




The Young Brother Andre

I knew none of this when I took a subway and a bus to go to the outskirts of Montreal to visit his tomb at the Oratory of Saint Joseph, the church he built with all the donations he received, in honor of his great patron.

I felt drawn to kneel at his tomb; he was not even declared a blessed or a saint yet! 

There, I also felt drawn to ask Brother André for a spiritual favor.  I needed a very specific grace.  It was something totally spiritual.  It had nothing to do with a physical or material concern.

I got up from my prayer and that was it.  I kept a holy card of him and went on with my travels.

The Oratory of Saint Joseph built by St Andre Bessette

A week later, I was on a retreat in New Mexico and I had more or less forgotten about Brother André!  I had even stopped, more or less, thinking about the spiritual favor I had asked.

But on that retreat, unexpectedly and out of the blue, that specific grace came.  I cannot speak about it, but it was specific and concrete.  And it came.

And when it came, then and only then I remembered Brother André.  And I thanked him.

So, on his feast today, I must let people know.  Brother, now Saint, André Bessette is mighty indeed!  And I'm sure Saint Joseph is part of the reason, too.

JUST ONE STORY

A man was having a hard time walking down the street with his new pair of crutches.

A car passed by and slowed down.  Out the window appeared an elderly man wearing a Roman collar.  The religious said, "My friend!  What happened?"

The man with crutches said, "I got into an accident, and now I have to use these!"

The old man said, "My friend!  Drop those crutches and walk on your own!"

The man thought the suggestion was crazy.

Again the old man said, "Drop the crutches and walk on your own!"
This time the man obeyed.  He dropped the crutches and he couldn't believe it.  He was able to walk perfectly well.

The car with the old man in it drove off.

It was Brother André.

ST JOHN, LUTA AND A CONFIRMATION

San Francisco de Borja Church
Songsong, Rota

In the summer of 1974, I made the decision to transfer from Saint Francis School in Yoña to Bishop Baumgarter Junior High School, just down the street from my house in Sinajaña.

This affected my confirmation in the Catholic Church.  Saint Francis (at the time) was a parochial school and had its own confirmation class.  Had I stayed at Saint Francis, I would have been confirmed with my classmates.

But since I switched to Baumgartner, which was not a parochial school and did not have a confirmation class, I was now left without a solid plan for receiving that important sacrament.  My own parish, Saint Jude's, had a CCD program of course and a confirmation class, but I had never attended it because I always went to Catholic school, with daily classes in religion.

Then entered Auntie Ana.  Ana Torres Reyes (the lady below) was my grandmother's sister, married to Judge Vicente Camacho Reyes (the man below).  She had many miscarriages and one baby boy lived long enough to be baptized and receive the name Vicente, but they had no children otherwise.  So Auntie Ana often went right in and made arrangements for others in the family.

I remember clearly the event.  One afternoon in the summer of 1975, Auntie Ana said to me, "I am going to call Bishop Flores about your confirmation.  Let Uncle Ben (her husband) be your nino (godfather)."

I was 13 years old, so I said, "OK."

Auntie Ana did not wait one second.  She walked right into Uncle Ben's little office, a room in their house with book shelves, a desk and several filing cabinets, and picked up the phone.

She gabbed and gabbed away in Chamorro with the Bishop, whom she got by phone without any trouble.  I didn't understand a lot of it at the time, and of course I couldn't hear what the Bishop was saying.

She put the phone down and she said, "OK, you're going to be confirmed in Rota."  My heart leaped up into my throat.  Not out of rejection, but rather shock!  I didn't expect that!

Long story short, Auntie Ana and the bishop were wondering when and where I could be confirmed.  Most parishes had their confirmations right after Easter.  That was all done by the time Auntie Ana was calling the Bishop in July or August.

But the Bishop said, "Ah but there is one more confirmation I am doing."  It doesn't happen right after Easter.  This particular parish is Rota, the island just north of Guam.  That island, with its one parish at the time, combined their patronal fiesta in October (San Francisco de Borja/Saint Francis Borgia) with their confirmation.  That way, the Bishop down in Guam could kill two birds with one stone and fly up once for two events.

Now there remained one last item on the agenda : my confirmation name.

Very quickly I decided I wanted to do something to honor my father, whose name is John.  So within minutes, I had it settled.  My name would be John.  Now, which John?  John the Baptist?  Or John the Evangelist?  With that question I struggled, for both seemed equally desirable.

But in the end, I decided on John the Beloved Disciple, because somehow I entertained the notion that maybe, one day, I could be as good a disciple of Jesus as he was.  I did, however, tell John the Baptist in prayer that he was not totally out of the picture, being Second Runner-up.



The two Johns
The Evangelist (left) and The Baptist (right)

So off we flew one October Saturday morning to Luta (Rota).  We took a small propeller plane.  In those days, there were only two "hotels" in Luta.  One, the larger of the two, was more like a concrete apartment building, two stories.  My mom and dad stayed there.

But my Uncle Ben, Auntie Ana and myself stayed at Rota Hotel.  It was a two-story house, with the bottom floor (concrete) serving as a convenience store, and the upper floor (made of wood and a tin roof) serving as a two or three room hotel.  At least there was air conditioning.  Uncle and Auntie had one bed; I had the other.

I remember we were given floral leis at the airport and the sweet aroma filled the air conditioned room the whole weekend we were there.  We also either bought or were given local melon, and that fragrance filled the room, too.

Auntie Ana picked out and bought my clothes for the big event, and boy did she do a number on me.  A snow white suit, shirt, jacket, pants, socks and shoes.  And to top it all off, a huge red bow tie.  I mean, I'm white to begin with.  But, red and white - the colors of the Holy Ghost.  Except that I looked like a polar bear wounded at the throat.

I was told to stand at the very end of the line of Rotanese boys, all in their simple white shirts, black ties and black trousers, who stared at me as if I was something out of a movie.

Then came the moment to be confirmed.  The bishop was the stately, dignified Felixberto Camacho Flores, Bishop of Agaña.  I was last, at least among the boys, and remember well the little tap on the cheek that he gave me, that we were all told about beforehand.  I was expecting something a little harder, but it was just a tap.  Years later I found out that that gesture was eliminated in the reformed ritual, but Bishop Flores, something of an old-schooler in some things, thankfully kept it in. 

Bishop Felixberto Camacho Flores

I remember a party we went to at some residence and listening to my nino, Uncle Ben, conversing with Saipan civic leader William "Bitlin" Reyes.  They probably knew each other since the war, when Saipanese men were forced by the Japanese to go to Guam to serve as interpreters.  My Uncle Ben, being the district leader of Barrigada during the war, had to deal with the Japanese and the Saipanese interpreters.  I recall Uncle Ben asking Bitlin if he thought the Covenant between the US and the Northern Marianas would go through, and Bitlin said it would.  And it did.

I also remember that Auntie Ana and Uncle Ben took me along on another visit to another family, local Rotanese.  Though my Chamorro wasn't really that good at the time, I distinctly remember them talking about a priest that they did not like, who lasted on Rota only a short time and the people were glad to be rid of him.  The man said, in Chamorro, "If they ever assign that priest to Luta again, I myself will go and nail the church doors shut!"  The priest eventually left the ministry altogether, and the church doors were never nailed shut.

I do remember very vividly hearing the Luta accent.  I loved it.

Finally, I got to see more of the famous Luta pastor, still alive at this writing, in his 90s, Father (now Monsignor) Louis Antonelli, always in a white cassock and a rosary around his neck, with a long, flowing white beard.

Rev. Louis Antonelli

My dad, John Dennis Forbes, long-time teacher at Father Dueñas Memorial School.  I took his name for my confirmation name. 

I am so grateful I was born early enough to catch these glimpses of old Chamorro life; even in Rota in 1975.  I am grateful for Auntie Ana taking a great interest in my confirmation and the way it happened in Luta.  And I wanted to show my appreciation to my dad by taking his name at my confirmation, and of course to ask Saint John's help in life.

After all, if Saint John, the Beloved Disciple, intercedes for me, the Lord, his best friend, will listen.

From the sacramental records of my home parish, Saint Jude's.  It shows I was confirmed on Rota on October 10, 1975.  To the right of it is the notation about my diaconate ordination in 1990.