A HISTORY OF THE PARISH CHURCH OF ORAS

 

by Msgr. Lope C. Robredillo

 

Under a Spanish culture, the transformation of a pueblo to a parish is a great prestige.  No wonder, many visitas on Eastern Samar aspired to become independent parishes.  But for a visita to become one, the construction of a permanent church was a legal and canonical requirement.  Thus, when Father Manuel Lozano, a Franciscan, was parish priest of Tubig (1847-1865), the Orasnons expressed their wish to him; he consequently directed the people of the visita of Oras in the construction of a parish church. 

It is not clear when the project was started, although it is known that on March 28, 1863 when Mons. Romualdo Jimeno Ballesteros, Bishop of Cebu, wrote the government authority in the Visayas regarding its establishment as an independent town and parish, he said that the church, together with the rectory, was almost finished.  Oras became a parish on June 25, 1870 through a decree by the Bishop of Cebu, with Father Vicente Martinez as first parish priest, although it became an independent pueblo on December 13, 1849.    

Dedicated to St Peter of Alcantara (San Pedro de Alcantara), whose feast falls on October 19, the parish church was made of cut coral stone and lime mortar masonry.  Its size was 41’40 meters long, 13’20 meters wide, and its walls were 6’60 meters high.  It had the form of the cross, much like the old churches of Borongan, Guiuan, Sulat and Tubig.  It had three altars, with the altar mayor at the middle, and the two others were at the transept.  In 1885, it still lacked sacristy and ceiling.  Its few windows were high and small, since it served as refuge in case of Moro raids.  The interior was, therefore, a bit dark, even during daytime.   

Unfortunately, sometime in 1905, a group of Pulajanes under Cenecio Lazarra, its leader in the north, entered the town, killing almost everyone they met, and put to torch many houses, including the new church of stone. It was the biggest conflagration in the history of the town.  It fell upon Father Felix Minaya, pastor from 1898 to 1906, to restore the burnt building.  During the restoration, it acquired new images for its 3 altars.  Above the altar mayor was the image of St Peter of Alcantara, with Juana Picardo as donor; the altar minor on the right wing had the image of St Anthony of Padua while the altar minor on the left wing had the image of St Francis of Assisi, donated by Juan Mengote.   

When it became fashionable to discard the Spanish architecture in many parishes to adopt new ones, Oras was not spared. The plan to replace the church of stone with a church of concrete was conceived when Father Bernardo Baxal was parish priest (1953-1963).  The demolition started in 1962 and was continued when Father Agripino Osal took over the parish.  Designated to draw up the design of the new church was Fernando Batica, and contributions for the project poured in through family quotas and donations from parishioners.  The posts, for instance, were sponsored by different families.  The tiling of the center aisle was a gift from Atty Simaco Sacmar. It did not take long for the church to finish; by 1971, when Father Osal finished his term as parish priest, there was no longer any major improvements to be added. 

The present church is 13.3 meters wide, 42 meters long and 8 meters high.  In the 1981, Msgr Santos Paco, through Fernando Batica, constructed a two-storey building beside the church, at the west end of which rises a belfry that was blessed in 1985.  He had the old bells displayed near the façade of the church.  Having taken over the parish in 2001, Msgr Crescente Japzon introduced many improvements, including the concreting of the patio between the church and the rectory, installation of the main gate of iron grills to the rectory, construction of plant boxes for bantolinao, repairs of the sacristy and belfry, and redesigning of the grotto near the sacristy.  A choir loft was added through the generosity of Lydia Agudo.  In 2012-2013, under the administration of Father Romeo Solidon, the sanctuary was renovated, along with the roof and ceiling as well as the back wall of the church, with the help of Engr Ronald Norcio.   

In 2017, during the term of Father Dan Gañas, Reynaldo Lomuntad and Vivian Atrejenio donated a new altar table, Anecita Sugalan and Jocelyn Hagad the ambo, and the family of Charriville Noroña Nebrija the lectern for commentator.  In the same year, adjacent to the gospel side of the sanctuary, the Team Ministry constructed a "House of Saints," actually a spacious room that houses the images of saints for public veneration, to the tune of about P350K.  From 2019 to 2020, Father Gañas extended the left side of the church by more than 4 meters at the cost of about P1.1M, and he plans to do the same on the right side this year and the next.  Considering, however, that the Oct 19 fiesta is around the corner, he set up a structure, made of steel pipes and galvanized iron, to extend the right side by 4½ meters in order to accommodate the ever increasing number of churchgoers during fiestas.  This last runs on a budget of about P200K.

 

 

WHENCE CAME THE NAME “BALANGIGA”?

 

By Msgr Lope C. Robredillo

 

One of the frequently asked questions in local history is the origin of the town’s name.  In Eastern Samar, some towns have an unbroken tradition about their names, like Borongan, which came from the word “borong,” meaning, fog.  No one in Borongan disputes this; none of the Boronganons is aware of any other etymology of the name of the place.  But this is not the case of Balangiga.  It seems that, until now, people have not found a satisfactory explanation for the origin of its name.

          To date, there are four explanations, the first two of which I found in the Municipality of Balangiga Home Page in the internet.  [1] The first one comes from a legend.  According to the website, the legend is “about a hallow jackfruit called 'Balanga' floating in the nearby river. The fruit kept on coming back until picked up by a fisherman who threw it with much anger upon seeing it without the juicy stuff inside. The spot where the fruit landed came to be known as Balanga and which through the years became what it is now: Balangiga."  In historical studies, we call this “aetiological legend,” a story is created to explain the origin of the name of the place.

 

          [2] The second is quite complicated; it speaks of a theory that Balangiga is a combination of three monosyllabic words: bala from balay (house) in Ilocano and Samareño; ngi- from ngi-ngi which means mouth; and ga, a derivative from the Samareño word duungan or port in English. Thus Bala-ngi-ga means “house at the mouth of the port” or port town.  Though the meaning is beautiful, the derivation is so artificial that one doubts whether the pre-Hispanic natives of Balangiga could have attained such a degree of sophistication.  The other problem is that it cannot be linked to any record or artifact to support the derivation.  In fact, it does not have any precedent in the Samareño tradition in the naming of towns and other places.  One, though, is reminded of a practice among Samareños especially in the 1990s to name their children from the combination of the names of their parents, e.g., Tessthur, from Maritess and Arthur.

 

          [3] A third explanation, suggested before but lost to the present generation of Balangiganons, is that the town was originally called Balanguigui, the name of the place of the founder of Balangiga.  According to the story, his name was Manginginsilao, a Moro sultan from Mindanao, who, having been driven by his brother after the death of their father, took refuge in this place, together with his Christian captives.  He allegedly founded the town in 1665.  While it is true that there is such an island in Mindanao known as Balanguigui, which was home to Moro pirates, one cannot subscribe to it without encountering a number of inconsistencies and historical problems.  It is more likely that the one who created this explanation must have read about this island in a book of history, because this was well known during the Spanish time, and then associated it with the origins of Balangiga.  The story, in other words, is probably also an invention.

 

          [4] The fourth one, the newest, I found in a Spanish book; but its derivation is simple.  The town of Balangiga was named after a tree called Balangigan.  Says Matheo Sanchez in his book, Vocabulario de la Lengua Bisaya, published in 1711: “Balangigan: Cierto arbol, y 

deste arbol se de nomina el Pueblo llamado Balangigan” (p.51).   The advantage of this explanation is that there is no transformation or adaptation in the word; Spanish books and reports in the 1700s called this town BALANGIGAN OR BALANGUIGAN.  Moreover, it is consistent with the tradition of pre-Hispanic natives of this island to name places after trees, e.g., Lauaan, Dao, Talisay, Burac, Malobago, Dapdap, etc.  The derivation does not seem to have been invented.

 

THE HISTORICAL TRUTH BEHIND THE “PADUL-ONG” TRADITION OF BORONGAN

by Msgr Lope C. Robredillo, SThD

What, really, is the historical truth behind the “Padul-ong” tradition of Borongan?  Is there a modicum of truth to it?  What is its historical core?  Though the present account on the “Padul-ong” is couched in some mythical details, partly because its beginnings was for long shrouded in the mist of history, and partly because of the religious experience of those who received and transmitted the tradition, yet, my research in recent years on its historical background demonstrates that the tradition is, after all, essentially authentic.

          It has to be recalled that prior to 1616, Borongan in its present location already had a church, doubtless of wood, nipa and stone, periodically visited by Jesuit missionaries from Catubig and later on from Palapag, Northern Samar.  The town resulted from a consolidation of inhabitants in several small clusters of houses in the nearby rivers and fields.  One can be sure that the church was already dedicated to “Nuestra Señora de la Natividad,” and had an image of the patroness.

          But with the increase of converts to Christianity and the corresponding demand for a larger place of worship, the Jesuits, after more than 75 years of missionary activities, started constructing a more permanent building, this time a church of stone and galvanized iron, sometime before 1700 (actually, writers do not agree on the exact date).  And, probably to match the new church, a new statue of the patroness was ordered from either Spain or Mexico.

          On July 2, 1718, the new image of “Nuestra Señora de la Natividad,” arrived in Borongan, or, to be exact, at the Borongan Bay, on board the galleon, piloted by Don Enrique Herman, named “Nuestra Señora de Begoña,” which left Acapulco, Mexico on March 31. It was carried by Father Juan Jose Delgado, himself a passenger of the galleon with other priests.  Because the ship, what with its heavy cargoes from Mexico, could not dock at the town without running aground, considering the sandbars and reefs, it cast anchor on the bay, and the statue was loaded on a small boat to reach the shore. 

Given the Spaniards’ baroque cultural upbringing and flair for ceremonies and pageantry, it is most likely that other boats coming from Guintaguican and nearly fishing hamlets accompanied the transport of the image of the Borongan Patroness.  This was in all likelihood the first fluvial procession at the Borongan Bay in honor of the Patrona.  It is also not impossible that the parish priest, presumably still Father Domingo Ynsausti, and the parishioners welcomed the arrival of the statue with singing and rejoicing!  Though there is no record as to the exact place where the transporters disembarked (Rawis? Borongan beach? Sabang?), a procession from the landing area to the parish church was undoubtedly held.

          This statue of “Nuestra Señora de la Natividad” was a special one, because it was believed to contain a first class relic; a strand of hair of the Blessed Mother was kept in its locket.  As the image was prominently displayed and venerated in the church of Borongan, various forms of miracles were attributed to our Lady’s intercession. As Father Delgado himself narrated years later in his book, “Historia General Sacro-Profana, Politica y Natural de Las Islas del Poniente, Llamadas Filipinas” (1754), he ascribed to her mediation the protection of the missionaries from such evils as Moro incursions and frequent typhoons.  Stories of unusual experiences about her emerged from among the natives.  In one account, it is said that the Virgin could be seen early in the morning walking from Hamorawon spring to the church, probably after bath. Understandably enough, it did not take long for the church of Borongan to become a place of pilgrimage.  People from all over the island came and still come to the church of Nuestra Señora de Borongan to seek her intervention for various reasons.

No wonder, Father Delgado, serving as Superior of the Residencia de Palapag, used to go on pilgrimage to Borongan.  He had great affection for the Patroness that, in the dedicatory portion of his book mentioned above, he addressed her, “Excelentísima Señora y soberana Madre de Dios de Borongan.”  It was 54-year old Father Delgado himself, at that time parish priest of Guiuan, who officiated the Sung Mass (Misa Cantada) when the new church of Nuestra Señora de Borongan was dedicated on September 8, 1751.  (This year, 2020, is the 269^th anniversary of its dedication.)  He was so delighted to touch the hair of the Virgin’s image with his own hands on the day of the blessing of the church.

It is in that context that the “Padul-ong” tradition must be understood and appreciated. 

In view of all this, organizers and celebrators of the “Padul-ong” festival have no need to worry about the historical foundation of the event. It is solidly grounded in history. But, as I have suggested on September 14, 2019 on my Facebook page, they would be more in keeping with the “Padul-ong” tradition and more indigenous if the participants of the festival were to exclaim, “Viva! Nuestra Señora de Borongan!” (instead of “Viva! Nuestra Señora de la Natividad!”) during the parade and the performance of the ritual.  And, of course, in faithfulness to the soul of the tradition, its spiritual dimension should not be dispensed with.*