for Abbe , my Jesuit brother Carl , The Back Pack Seeker...

JOEY VELASCO INSISTS THAT FATHER ABE ALWAYS REFERRED TO ME AS MY JESUIT BROTHER.

I would like to gather my thoughts on Abbe in the form of a letter—to my brother Jesui

Dear Abbe,

We knew each other as brother Jesuits for more than 40 years.

The only time you ever asked me a favor was in 2004, when you requested me to write something about your forthcoming book, ‘BACKPACK OF A JESUS-SEEKER, Part III”.

At that time I was suffering from deep depression, and everything seemed meaningless, and difficult, and useless.
But you are my brother and my friend,
And so I forced myself, with almost superhuman effort, to do what you asked.
First I read your book—seven times, I think. And then, from my deepest heart, I wrote—


This book, for me, has been more than a book.

It brought me back home to Mother Mary, whom I had known and loved very much when I was a young boy. The book made Mary real, alive, caring, natural, loving, lovable—again! And so I fell in love with my Mother Mary all over again because of the book.

The Call of te Kingdom dimmed and grew blurred during the past thirty-five years. Many endeavors became confused and impotent and despairing. But the book--YOUR book, THE SPIRIT’S book—called me, reminded me, healed me, made me whole again. And restored me with its gentle welcome. Its Truth. Depth. Clarity. Courage. Humility. Inspiredness.

Your book is a Presence that sees everything, accepts everything in infinite truth and mercy ad kindness and love. It excludes nothing, and no one, not even the worst in our world and in us.

Your book has helped bring me back home to the Jesus I had known and loved, the Jesus of my heart, the Jesus of the Bible—before fear and prejudice and pride distorted Him in my eyes.

And so I thank your book...it has helped me..become alive again.

But maybe it is not jthe book I ahould be grateful for. Maybe it is YOU, FATHER CARLOS, the author, and your spirit.

Maybe I should ultimately thank the REAL AUTHOR...THE HOLY SPIRIT.


Father Carlos H. Abesamis, S.J. – Yesterday we laid you to rest in the Jesuit cemetery in Novaliches, beside the recently-departed Fr. Eddie Hontiveros and Fr. John Chambers, and embraced by the surrounding presence of our other brother Jesuits, who had gone ahead of us.

I hope that someday soon, I too, though unworthy, would also be laid to everlasting rest -- near you and beside our brother Jesuits, in the loving embrace of God.

I am not writing this for The Left, nor for The Right. Not even for The Top, nor The Bottom. I am writing this for myself—and for you, in the presence of God.

It is much simpler this way. I do not have to please—nor to fear—anybody. I only have to remember, and tell the truth.

The last time I was with you was in late January 2008, when I went with Joey Velasco and Queeny and Ali. You said only one word to me, “Juni!”. And then we prayed for you. And you prayed for us. And then we left. Because you were in pain.

I have known you for more than 40 years. You are seven years older than me. And while you were always a brilliant star in the Big Leagues, I was just a lowly water boy in the Little Leagues, remaining, in the league until now, only by the sufferance of good and holy people.

Ermin Garcia, Jr. introduced us in 1966. You had just returned to the Philippines after Innsbruck, Ordination, and Tertianship. You were a well-loved influential—and handsome professor in the Loyola Heights campus. But one day you said goodbye to us. You were going to Rome, you said. To study Biblical Theology. “What’s that?” “Theology,” you said, “based on the bible.”

You came back a couple of years later. I had expected you to resume your role as a popular professor in the Loyola Heights campus. But you were different. Something had hit you hard on the way home from the Manila International Airport.

You told me that you were really struck by all the hovels and the shanties of the poor squatters along the road, even though Imelda’s people had tried –ridiculously and unsuccessfully--to cover and disguise their screaming poverty from the tourists and the passing public.

I was surprised that you were so deeply affected and disturbed. For the rest of us no longer were—we had grown used to the scene.

You began to talk about SALVATION in a different way, a way that went beyond the soul, and included the entire human being, here and now. And you biblical studies about the real Jesus and His real teachings coincided with the concrete situation in the Philippines. And you found many other Priests and Lay Persons who, hearing the cry of the poor, and the cry of Jesus Christ, decided to work and to fight for conscientization liberation.

I remember being invited by you to live outside the campus—before the Barangka experiments ---in a small community composed of three Jesuits—FR. FRANCISCO GLOVER SJ, FR. CARLOS ABESAMIS SJ, and JUNI.

We had no car, no telephone (of course, no computer and no cellphone), no refrigerator, no air-conditioner, no electric fan. We only had a small table where you celebrated Mass, an old bookshelf for our books, and an old cupboard for our food. Our budget for every meal was p2.50 (two pesos and fifty centavos). It was a good, idealistic, difficult experiment—in poverty and simple living.

We both worked with the sugarcane laborers in Negros. We met Bishop Cornelius de Wit and Bishop Antonio Fortich and Hector Mauri and Louie Hechanova and Luis Jalandoni. And many other valiant people, lay persons, nuns, and priests.

I went back to Manila and refused to write about my Sacada experience—because it was too painful.
But Fr. Horacio de la Costa, SJ. the Jesuit Provincial, told me to, and so I wrote “THE SACADAS OF SUGARLAND’. The persecution began, and never ended.

We had national elections in 1969 and there was shameless, rampant violent cheating nationwide. This was BEFORE the country woke up and became brave, brave enough to risk death and denounce and defy Ferdinand Marcos for the sake of democracy and justiceMany people were afraid, and did nothing. You, however, and a small group of clergymen, felt the need to do something.

And who had the clout to denounce the shameless, rampant violence and the cheating? The Bishops of the Catholic Church.

The group prepared AN OPEN LETTER TO FERDINAND MARCOS. We went around and approached each one of the more than 60 Bishops throughout the Philippines. We were able to obtain SEVEN signatures. The valiant patriot, Joaquin “Chino” Roces and JLM helped us splash this OPEN LETTER, a cry for justice and democracy, in the front pages of the national newspapers. The seven Bishops were referred to by the press as “THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN” for daring to open the Pandora’s Box of exploitation, injustice and fear. Then from everywhere, until EDSA I in 1986, all hell broke loose.

You and I, we played a very very small role in the struggle for liberation. There were hundreds of thousands more courageous and more daring and more effective than us. But before God, I think we did our best.

In the middle of 1982 I was hit by a cargo truck while crossing a street. It was a hit-and-run accident. I never found out who the driver was. Leon Nibal, who saved me and brought me to the hospital, said I had no pulse beat. I was in coma for three days.

In the darkness and in the pain I thought I heard a Voice ask me “Do you want to go HOME now?” And I said, “No.” But “Why,” the Voice continued, “You will just be crucified again. And again.” And I answered, “Please let me stay longer. My people—they need me.” And from that time on, I began to heal—very slowly.

Later on you, Fr. Abbe, would tell your secretary, Tang, about that accident. And you would tell him how afterwards, I was not the same anymore. I was still alive. But, like my bones, I had been shattered.

In that year, I asked to go on leave. To search for truth, and for meaning, and for God, and for home.

But you, Fr. Abbe, you never left. You were stronger, and more loyal, and better than I was.



And yet, instead of rejecting me, or despising me, or excluding me, you always cherished, and even respected me.

Whether we met at Jesuit Ordinations orFunerals.
Or the sugarcane fields of Negros, or in the Seminars and Conventions with fellow-workers in Luzon, Visayas, and Mindanao, there always remained the sincerest glow of gladness, respect and love in your handshake, your voice and in your eyes.

Thank you for continuing to understand and appreciate me in my frailty and my imperfection.
Thank you for accepting me, although I am different from you. Thank you for being a hero and a beloved example to so many of us.

In your conversations with Joey Velasco and with Tang, you would always refer to me fondly as “My brilliant brother Jesuit”. Fr. Abbe, I AM your brother Jesuit, but I am not brilliant. And thank you for considering me your brother. Thank you for inviting me to your 73rd birthday celebration, in your home, to meet Joey Velasco and all your chosen ones, who will, in their own human and limited way, continue Jesus Christ’s work for the Kingdom of God and the salvation of humankind.


In 2004, you gave me a gift. It was a copy of your book, “BACKPACK OF A JESUS—SEEKER, Book One” . In it, you wrote this dedication--

Dear Juni,
Hello, Partner.
This is not quite up to YAYEE
But shared with you,
A fellow-Seeker.
Carl A.




Maybe this is how I should end this letter...protesting that your books are infinitely better that my books, but infinitely thanking you for esteeming me as your Partner and your Fellow-Seeker., your brother and your friend.




In Our Lord,
Juni