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I was 12 when my father took us to sign the book of condolence in the Mondragon building in Makati, after the senator Benigno Aquino, Jr. was shot dead in August 1983. He wanted to show us the weight of standing up for the freedom one believed in, crashing against the perils of fellow men. The senator’s widow, Corazon Aquino, later prevailed upon to be president of the country, stood in the small foyer, shaking hands with everyone who walked down the cordoned path.
Today, 26 years later, her body, now at rest after a painful illness, was borne on white and yellow mums, lilies and dancing lady orchids, through the traffic-choked roads, drawing out a tide of humanity in variable shades of feeling, professing universal gratitude, attributing her with “restoring freedom and democracy and toppling dictatorial rule...” The crowd swelled and banner-bearing teams posed in photo-friendly angles, confetti rained on cue, screaming and clapping and dispersing as quickly in its wake... a scene which will surely be multiplied when her body is buried on Wednesday, beside that of her husband’s.
People mourn for a leader perceived as upright (Prov. 29:2), and it is somehow the pleasant cleanup effect of death to erase every fault and flaw. Only smile memories remain, fun moments, good work, friendship, snapshots, and even fond exaggeration, polished to a rosy glow, regrets that we didn’t do more, that there wasn’t enough time.
However, when the camera eyes and microphone ears start feeding leading questions and comparisons, emotions are primed and stoked with increasing fervor to suit vested interests: “Do you think there will be anyone like her...?” “What will happen to our country now that we have lost her?...” In the gripping high drama of our island country, you are either bida or kontrabida, depending on who is pleased and how well they are satisfied.
Suddenly, in record time, the creature has superseded the Creator in the most elaborate prose: “God gives suffering to those whom He loves...” “Dear God, when we fell in love with her, we fell in love with You...” “She was a woman who did no wrong...” “mother of the nation... angel... saint... now she will mediate for us in heaven” “We no longer need to pray for her... now we can pray to her...”
Strangely, by professing faith, we reveal our desperate confusion as to in what, or in whom exactly. Who will redirect the sweet swelling words that we try to comfort ourselves and each other with?
The voice of a king rings across time to check our presumptions:
“Let all the earth fear the LORD; let all the people of the world revere Him.
For He spoke, and it came to be; He commanded, and it stood firm. The LORD foils the plans of the nations; He thwarts the purposes of the peoples. But the plans of the LORD stand firm forever, the purposes of His heart through all generations.”
David, king of Israel –Psalm 33:8-11, NIV
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