September 7, 2007

Dear Friends,

The church we support may look like a shed in the middle of an open field, but we love to worship there. Here, one of my former students, D.J. Galo, leads worship.

I'd like to share with you one of the ministries that we are participating in this year. We are professors of Union Theological Seminary in the Philippines, but our ministry is not limited to teaching. Usually, this brings us joy. We support a new-born congregation that congregates in its own facility, which looks for all the world like a shed in a field. Worshipping with the wind blowing softly and the grass waving outside revives the spirit. We visit our students in their home churches far and wide and participate in various congresses and academic convocations. Seeing our students in the service of Christ connects us to the richness of Filipino Christian life.

This year a new avenue of ministry has opened up that is both challenging and potentially dangerous. We are visiting one of our students in prison. This may not sound dramatic at first, but our student, Pastor Berlin Guerrero, was abducted by armed men three months ago as he was heading home after a church anniversary celebration. The armed men seized him, handcuffed him, and threw him into the back of an unmarked van. Eighteen hours later he was placed in a police detention center, badly hurt after being tortured and interrogated. During his interrogation he was asked about activities on our campus, the professors who teach here, and the leaders of the student organizations. Our campus is under suspicion because we took in internal refugees who were fleeing military activity in their villages. Berlin is the third member of our community to be seized and interrogated.

Bruised and beaten though he was, it was a miracle that he was alive. Many seized in the past were not so fortunate. When we heard he was alive, Mary joined other workers from the United Church of Christ in the Philippines in rushing to the police detention center, and stood outside the gate for three hours pleading to be allowed in to see him.

We have followed him from one prison to another, stood outside courthouses in the rain, and sat in hearings where his future of his life is decided. He is accused of a murder that took place over 14 years ago. We are as shocked by the way in which he has been detained, without due process. As Christians, we stand beside him in his hour of need, witnessing to the love of Christ for all victims. As seminary professors, we stand beside him in this time of suffering witnessing to the Christian faith that we proclaim in and outside our classes. As friends, we stand beside him, assuring him that we are brothers and sisters in Christ, sharing each other's burdens and bearing each other's load.

Mylene Guerrero, wife of Pastor Berlin Guerrero, who celebrated Communion with us during visiting hours at the prison.

Recently we celebrated Berlin’s birthday in a crowded cellblock with 200 other inmates. We sat in his sleeping box, made of plywood and measuring four feet, by five feet, by three feet. This sleeping box, small as it is, is considered a luxury. Most inmates have no space to call their own other than a mat on a wooden bunk lined along walkways. Berlin lives in a space no larger than a big doghouse, with a bed, a fan and a couple of plywood shelves in the corner where he stores his precious books, including the Bible and his favorite book by Bonhoeffer. When he is allowed visitors he comes out to the noisy prison yard, where friends and family collect amidst the loud and frenetic activity that marks any Filipino gathering. Prisoners visit with their families, sell their handmade goods, vegetables, and other food stuff. A common sight is the prisoner who cuts hair while another gives manicures. All the while the karaoke machine blares.

It was here that we celebrated Communion with Berlin, his family, and several inmates last Sunday. We found a prime spot to celebrate the Lord’s Supper under the only tree in the prison yard. In the shade was a tiny hut in which inmates were playing cards and gambling. Their table was a huge spool that had once held massive cables. It lay on its side covered with sticky plastic paper.

It was around this table that we, Berlin's wife, his sister, and two other prisoners gathered. We placed a wooden bowl on the scarred surface and filled it with rolls. We poured grape juice into a wine glass and some plastic cups. We arranged the cups around an open Bible. As we celebrated, the chaos and cacophony of prison life faded, and God's peace entered into us. We found space for the Spirit to work among us. The Communion feast took on a deeper meaning for each of us for we knew that we were united in our celebration by our Lord Jesus Christ who comforts all who mourn with the assurance that where two or three are gathered in his name, God would be there. As we ate the bread that Jesus Christ served on the night that he was betrayed, we knew that as his body was broken for us, and his blood shed for us that we were witnesses to his life, death, and resurrection. As witnesses to his resurrection, we gathered in that prison, a place of confusion, fear, despair and loneliness to share the hope that only Christ can bring.

This, dear brothers and sisters in Christ, is just part of our ministry with the UCCP.  It is a ministry of love and reconciliation, a ministry of hope and redemption. It is a ministry that I invite you to join by supporting us in the Mission Challenge ’07, an event that will take place throughout the United States during the month of October. That's when 47 mission co-workers of the Presbyterian Church will fan out all over the United States to let the Presbyterian Churches know about what is happening in the mission field. We ask you to take part in this challenge to support us in our work in the Philippines as well as other Presbyterian mission co-workers around the globe.

In Christ,

The 2007 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 251