Ninoy: A Celebration of Life and Death

I want to share this homily on the occasion of the 25th death anniversary of Ninoy. Let's commemorate Ninoy's heroism and ideals. Be an instrument in ensuring that his heroism has not been futile.

Homily for the 25th Anniversary of the Death of Senator Benigno
Aquino, Jr., Church of the Gesù, Ateneo de Manila University,
17 August 2008

by Fr. Jojo Magadia, S.J. (current Jesuit provincial)

When I was telling a group of friends about this Mass for the 25th
anniversary of the death of Ninoy Aquino, the common reaction was
disbelief: "Twenty-five years? Already?" Even more striking was the
conversation that followed. One said, I was driving my car when I
heard the news and I felt so heavy and distressed and sad, and there
was this strange emptiness inside. Another said, I was just coming out
of class, when word spread on the crowded corridors of our school, and
many were stunned and confused and outraged. A third one said, I was
at home, and a friend called me, and as I heard the news, the tears
started coming for reasons I could not understand.

One after another, my friends and I recalled, how each one remembered
that day so vividly, where we were, what we were doing, the thoughts
and the feelings that hit us when the news broke out, what we did
after, how we all found time to fall in line with the millions of
Filipinos from all walks of life who paid their respects at Santo
Domingo Church, how some of us joined that unforgettable twelve-hour
funeral march from Santo Domingo, down España, crossing Quiapo and
Luneta, and all the way to Parañaque, singing and praying, as millions
more lined the streets in solidarity, chanting "Ninoy, Ninoy!",
dressed in the signature yellow. I remember feeling so proud of being
Filipino and so proud of Ninoy Aquino, and so emboldened by his death,
to continue the fight, and to take part in the next three years of
nonviolent struggle, and to join the Filipino people in assuring each
other with Ninoy's immortal words, "Hindi ka nag-iisa." Yes, those
were graced days of unimaginable courage, and I consider myself so
blessed to have been part of that.

As I look back, I ask myself, how did Ninoy Aquino do it? How did he
leave such a mark on many of us? Was it the disbelief and shock that
blood was spilled? Was it the incredible audacity of a man who knew he
was risking death, and yet went on with such determination? Was it the
sacrifice that was so strikingly and powerfully communicated? Was it
the dignity that came with courage recovered?

I suggest that there were two fundamental experiences that marked
those days –redemption and conversion.

First, redemption. In the Old Testament, the idea of redemption boiled
down to something quite simple. It had to do with the payment of a
price, in order to release the enslaved or imprisoned or oppressed. It
had to do with ransom, in order to liberate and grant freedom to one
who is held captive. It had to do with setting free from a power that
controls, that burdens, that possesses and imposes and dominates, that
makes people unable to take their lives into their own hands, and
determine their own futures with dignity. The sacrifice of Ninoy
Aquino left such a mark on us because it redeemed us who witnessed the
boldness and bravery of someone who was willing to give up his life
for those he loves.

The Filipino is worth dying for, Ninoy said, and that anchored our
actions in those days. It gave us a share in his vision, his daring,
his tenacity. It gave us a spirit that was so fresh and infectious. It
made us creative, thinking out of the box, in our ways of fighting the
injustices of those days, to the point of being playful and even
enjoying ourselves. It gave us a staying power that didn't give in to
petty discouragements, through three long years of seeming impasse. It
gave us energy and faith to just hang on, no matter what and no matter
how long. Ninoy's death was our ransom, our redemption. We were saved,
because through his sacrifice, we felt a new strength. We were won
over by the power of good and righteousness that Isaiah speaks of in
today's First Reading. Observe what is right, says the Lord, and do
what is just, for my salvation is about to come. And Ninoy's sense of
what is right and just gave us a new vitality.

Second, conversion. In that most touching 1973 letter Ninoy wrote to
Senator Soc Rodrigo, he recounts his experience of solitary
confinement. He was already in prison, when on March 12, 1973, he and
the late Senator Pepe Diokno were ordered to get dressed, and
thereafter, the two were blindfolded, handcuffed, and flown by
helicopter to an unknown destination.

In that letter, Ninoy writes: "When my blindfold was finally removed,
I found myself inside a newly painted room, roughly four by five
meters, with barred windows, the outside of which was boarded with
plywood panels. There was a six-inch gap between the panels and the
window frame to allow slight ventilation. There was a bright daylight
neon tube that glowed day and night. There were no electric switches
in the room, and the door had no knobs, only locks on the outside. The
room was completely bare except for a steel bed without mattress. No
chairs, tables, nothing.

"I was stripped naked. My wedding ring, watch, eyeglasses, shoes,
clothes were all taken away. Later, a guard who was in civilian
clothes brought in a bedpan and told me that I would be allowed to go
to the bathroom once a day in the morning, to shower, brush my teeth
and wash my clothes [two shirts and underwear]…. the intention was to
make us really feel helpless and dependent for everything on the guards."

In those days of solitary confinement, Ninoy reached a point of
desperation and desolation, as he questioned the justice of God. He
told Soc Rodrigo, "I remembered your famous words: Hindi natutulog ang
Diyos…but I felt, at that moment, he was having a very good sound
siesta and I was afraid when he finally woke up, I would have been
gone! … Would God allow me to die without seeing my family? What
terrible crimes have I committed to deserve this fate? The magnanakaws
are living it up and I who tried to walk the narrow path of public
service with integrity am now about to meet uncertain fate? Is this
justice?

And then, something happened. "Suddenly," Ninoy relates, "Jesus became
a live human being." And he awakened to the truth that in Jesus was "a
God-Man who preached nothing but love and was rewarded with death….
who had power over all creation but took the mockery of a crown of
thorns with humility and patience. And for all his noble intentions,
he was shamed, vilified, slandered, and betrayed."

"Then as if I heard a voice tell me: Why do you cry? I have gifted you
with consolations, honors and glory which have been denied to the
millions of your countrymen. I made you the youngest war
correspondent, presidential assistant, mayor, vice governor, governor,
and Senator of the Republic, and I recall you never thanked me for all
these gifts. I have given you a full life, a great wife and beautiful
lovable children. Now that I visit you with a slight desolation, you
cry and whimper like a spoiled brat!

"With this realization, I went down on my knees and begged His
forgiveness. I know I was merely undergoing a test, maybe in
preparation for another mission. I know everything that happens in
this world is with his knowledge and consent. I knew He would not
burden me with a load I could not carry. I therefore resigned myself
to His will."

This, my friends, is conversion. And it is this conversion that we
were invited to in those three years of struggle against the
dictatorship – a conversion that meant working and giving it our best,
but in the end, knowing that we could only depend on God. It was a
conversion that meant accepting our limitations, and allowing the Lord
to move in and fill in the blanks, and bring all the loose ends
together into some unity. It meant surrendering everything, and then
allowing ourselves to be surprised by the Lord's ways, as he would
later show so wonderfully at EDSA in 1986.

For Ninoy, and for those who saw his conversion, it also meant
embracing the ways of active non-violence, which called for courage
and daring. It sought reconciliation, and not the defeat of an
adversary. It was directed at eliminating an evil, not destroying an
evil-doer. It entailed a willingness to accept suffering for the
cause, should it be called for, but never to inflict it. It rejected
hatred, animosity or violence of the spirit, in addition to renouncing
all forms of physical violence. It demanded a fundamental faith that
in the end, justice would prevail. And that is why, the conversion to
non-violence also means an openness to even the inclusion of the dogs
who depend on the crumbs that fall from the master's tables, an
openness to receiving the aggressor who turns away from his old ways,
an openness to reconciliation and forgiveness, after repentance.

As I look at the Philippines today, I feel sad. I am sad about the
brazen corruption of many who are supposed to serve in public office.
I am sad about how we Filipinos have become so tolerant of injustice
and oppression, and how we do not challenge ourselves enough, and
easily let ourselves off the hook. I am sad about how many have given
up integrity to claim their share of the booty that the powerful
dangle before them. I am sad that so many of our people have to leave
their homes and their families, in search of employment overseas,
because the country could not offer them opportunity. I am sad about
the acts of violence all around, from the violence of the criminal, to
the violence in Mindanao, to the violence of poverty and hunger and
inequality and miseducation. This morning we received news from the
Assumption sisters, asking for prayers because of the war that has
just begun again in Lanao del Norte. I feel sad about the greed of
those who abuse power, and selfishly cling to it at any cost. And
through all this, it is so easy to be discouraged. But if we were to
give in to this discouragement, then this commemoration of the
sacrifice of Ninoy will have been merely ritual, and nothing more.

Instead, today, I suggest that we are asked to step back for a moment,
and look back to the life of this man, twenty-five years after the
great sacrifice of his life. We are invited to consider that what
Ninoy's experience really tells us is that the struggle is really not
meant to end, that the true offering of self is a daily and ongoing
oblation that can only last a lifetime, and that the fight for justice
must go on, ever-renewing itself, and ever re-creating itself in the
face of new injustices. We are challenged to re-tell the story of
Ninoy to our young, those who did not see, firsthand, those years of
amazing spirit, and to rekindle in them that fire that burned so
strongly in many of us.

My friends, if we are to live through all the difficulties in our
country today, if we are to persevere with dignity and determination,
we can draw our strength once more from Ninoy, by reclaiming the
redemption he offered, and the conversion he shared. This day, we
thank the Lord once more for all our Filipino martyrs and heroes, men
and women, known and unknown, whose lives have been a great light and
a source of hope, that feed into the work of continuing national
transformation.

Today, we pray very especially for President Cory Aquino, for healing
and for strength. We pray for peace in Mindanao. We ask Ninoy to pray
for us and intercede for us, for we know he is with the Lord he sought
to serve, the Lord in whose redemption Ninoy participated, the Lord in
whose hands we entrust our lives and our loves, confident that he will
bring us his peace. Amen