Not having fully recovered from a cough-cold combination this past week, I decided to repair at a known coffee shop chain to have some tea before a yoga class. Mint tea has always worked wonders when I am in this state, and I certainly needed to be delivered from my suffering, if only for a brief moment.

Little did I know that my “deliverance” would take an entirely different form. The fact that it comes in the most unexpected fashion serves only to up the incredulity factor.

As circumstance/luck would have it (depending on what you believe), the barista regretfully informed me that they have run out of the particular tea variant I wanted. So I settled for a good old Americano, anything that would keep my throat warm.

Downloaded e-books, ready for devouring? Check.

Cozy seat at a slightly secluded area? Check.

Appropriately cool temperature from an artificial source? Check.

Barely delving into my copy of Sex, Bombs, and Burgers - an excellent read, by the way – I was jolted when someone pounded on the table, and exclaimed: “That is why God is our salvation!”

One of the men is obviously a “convertee”, the one being preached to. Reading the body language, it is clear that the “sermoner” thinks of himself as the alpha dog in this scenario: an overbearing position even when seated, forceful voice, showy gestures. The listener was seated in a calmer fashion, head tilted in an inquisitive manner, trying to digest the “sermon”.

There goes my quiet time to read and sip my cup of coffee.

“You cannot have any other gods, and any other means of salvation!” bellowed Preacher.

Listener responds: “In my religion…(he utters something a little muffled as he turns to his book of reference)…and we are responsible for that.”

“The way is clear!” responds Preacher. And then he looks around the room, eyes ablaze with the fire of his intent to proselytize, looks just for a brief moment at Listener, then addresses the “congregation” (read: the clueless customers of the coffeeshop):

“You, or anyone else (gesturing to all of us) will not be saved by your own merits! You are damned, damned, I tell you! Know Him! Know God! Only He can deliver you from eternal damnation!”

To the credit of Listener, he isn’t backing down that easily. But because he is hunched over, speaks with a softer voice, and his back turned away from me, I could barely hear his response.

I immediately get my earphones and turn on my iTunes library, lest I be subjected to more “damnation”.

Why is this man using a coffeeshop as his personal pulpit? Is it to “attract” more followers? Basic commandment in interpersonal relationships: Starting off a conversation with “You’re wrong, I’m right!” tends to be seen as offensive and an affront. Not to mention rude.

But I gather that all religions have that same stance: A predilection to tell anyone outside their own fold that they cannot be happy/saved/fulfilled unless they follow “their” way. After all, religious leaders fancy themselves as arbiters of absolute morality and therefore have to be thoroughly convinced of their own self-righteousness. And followers are always told that “you will suffer for your faith, you will be ridiculed, maligned, and tested!”

The only maligning I saw was from the Preacher telling us of our “uncleanliness”, sitting on his moral high horse, content in being judgemental.

Freedom of religion also means the right to be free from religion.

I respect your right to have your own faith, wear whatever religious iconography you deem makes you feel “closer” to your chosen deity, say your own prayers, read your own religious books. You can conduct a seance or dance naked in your garden, I don’t really care.

Why do people like Preacher have such a hard time returning that same courtesy?

I went to a coffeeshop to have my caffeine buzz, to read, and to be relaxed. I did not go there to have someone make ill pronouncements on my character or the state of my being in an afterlife scenario. I have made my disdain for organized religion abundantly clear. I loathe anyone exhibiting intolerance – which I cannot tolerate at any level.

It is not a personal attack on you if someone doesn’t subcribe to your faith. It merely means I am living my own life, on my terms. Deal with it.

And as for the third person in that hallowed table? It was an acolyte of Preacher, who kept nodding at every pronouncement made or every text read. Someone whose purpose was merely to say “Yes” at every turn.

It’s your choice to turn off your mind.

–

Image from divinecrash.com

That’s according to Sorsogon Bishop Arturo Bastes, who recently chastised the Kapisanan Ng Mga Brodkaster ng Pilipinas (KBP), for not regulating certain radio disc-jockeys on the late night circuit who “are using indecent and vulgar language.”

While that is certainly an expected statement from a member of the Catholic hierarchy, it does not mean that is the only viewpoint we should be listening to.

First off, I wished the Inquirer reporter had asked the bishop to give specific names of disc jockeys or radio programs which offended his religious sensibilities; that way, any one would be able to gauge that statement for themselves.

If the disc jockeys/programs in question are indeed guilty of breaking the law, then by all means, the government and the KBP should exert all efforts to ensure that they are punished accordingly. (Offhand, legal provisions on that broad category of “indecency” would probably be enough to charge any offenders.)

What I find disturbing – monumentally – is why Bastes was complaining: his contention that “we are a Christian country” certainly leaves a bad taste in the mouth, particularly for those who have been advocating a more secular space and tone where discussions of laws and government are brought up, in the context of a democratic government and country.

And what bothers me is that his statement is no different from when the Spanish conquerors claimed these islands for their king centuries ago: He makes it seem like the Philippines has been conquered, and is now the property of the Catholic Church, Inc., so much so that the way things happen and are run in this country should be to their specifications.

Here is a small list of what I have observed as things they want to have or happen:

• No talking about sex.
• Presidents of a democratic country should bow down to us and our whims.
• Catholicism is Christianity. All other “Christian sects” are invalid.
• We don’t care about offending other religions and “their” feelings. But no one should dare say anything negative about the Catholic faith! (I wager they must miss the days when beheadings still took place.)
• What our religion says should be inscribed into secular law.
• Feel free to add your own observations here: ____________________________________.

Let me reiterate: if laws have been broken, then prosecute, charge, and punish. And by laws, I mean secular laws, the laws by which all citizens of this country are bound to, regardless of religious preference.

The bishop is forgetting one important fact: Catholicism does not hold the monopoly/trademark on what is to be deemed moral/correct/righteous.Unless we have transformed our form of government into a theocracy, we would well be reminded of a basic truth in a democracy: Religion is a choice.

Someone reacted to my previous post about Mary the Catholic deity, saying that we cannot fault anyone for thinking that all Filipinos are Catholic, seeing as majority subscribe to that religion. Bellowing out statistical data is not the same as respecting everyone’s rights under a democracy. Being the religious majority does not give anyone the right to summarily disregard other religions. To paraphrase what Father Joaquin Bernas (one of our Constitution’s framers) has stated, in a democracy, all religions are seen as equal, and no one religion is to be treated as “superior,” and rightfully so.

Everyone should be seen as equal, under a democracy—unless anyone wants to contest that.

–

Image from fielclan.blogspot.com

These things have to happen first thing in the morning.

What joy.

After my class this morning, I had to sign something in the front desk of where I work. The form had no dates, and I readily admit I always forget what day/date it is on a constant basis. So I turned to the receptionist and asked, “Ano nga ba petsa ngayon?” (“What’s the date today?”)

She looked at me as if I swallowed an infant, rolled her eyes, and said, “September 8! HELLO! Birthday ni Mama Mary, noh!”

In a singular sentence, she has concisely encompassed my problem with how some Catholics act, talk and think. In my mind, the two words that flashed were: What arrogance.

Let me state, clearly, for the record, before anyone imputes something twisted into my statements and my past blog entries: I have no problem with Catholics practicing their faith. To each his/her own, live and let live. I am a fan of all those sayings. Not just because they’re stated in popular expressions, but because it is the right thing to do.

We are all familiar with the Golden Rule: Do unto others what you would others do to you.

I would never imagine telling someone that “based on MY faith, you are doing something wrong!”. Yet, day after day, I see Catholics who have no problem doing the exact same thing, and frighteningly, on a national scale. They see it as their “business” to meddle with someone who doesn’t share the same faith at all!

What arrogance.

It is arrogant to presume that the things you believe in as a matter of personal faith are the exact same things I would also believe in. Who gave you the right to make that unfounded, ridiculous assumption? When I was still in elementary and high school, the one thing I remember clearly being taught was that “no special position/place is to be assigned to Mary. She is merely a vessel for Jesus. She is also human. We only worship God, not other humans.”

As a teenager, I always found it odd when Catholics prayed to “Mama Mary”, based on what I was taught in my religion. But I would never dream of ever going up to any Catholic and say, “You are wrong to pray to Mary, she is nothing special!”. That is what your faith professes and practices, and I will always respect that.

Unfortunately, you do not return the favor.

Instead, you feel it your “right” to tell me, and anyone else who doesn’t share your faith, to “follow our way, we are holding ‘the truth’!”.

You expect us to know who your saints are.

You expect us to know their birthdays.

You expect us to also pray the rosary.

You expect us to be silent when a priest says mass.

You expect us to follow your stance of viewing women as inferior to men.

You expect us to view gay people as abominations.

You expect us to hate the people your religion “allows” you to hate.

What arrogance.

This is exactly why I strongly support keeping the discussion of religion out of the public sphere. Matters of faith and religion are intensely private affairs, they are decisions that are based on personal beliefs.

I need to emphasize the word personal.

That is a decision you come to on your own. And if that is the case, you need to ackowledge the fact that each and every person is different. It is only right, therefore, to keep matters of faith to yourself.

Using your faith to claim some illusory mantle of moral superiority reeks to me of false entitlement and haughtiness. No one faith is “better” than another. (It always goes back to it being a personal choice. You choose what is best for you, and no one else.) It doesn’t matter if there are 100 million in one religion and just 2 million sharing 55 other faiths. Numbers do not give you the right to judge another person’s religion as being “inferior” to yours.

Back to this morning, I finished signing, then turned to the receptionist, and said: “File this, and file it in your brain that not everyone is a Catholic.”

Something that bears repeating in a country that assumes everyone is.

–

Image from georgiehoon.multiply.com

Years ago, I needed to go to the BIR (Bureau of Internal Revenue) to file something-or-other. It pains me to have to go through this country’s bureaucratic, uhm, processes, but some things are just unavoidable. I remember going mid-afternoon because of the stifling heat, and wanted to minimize my exposure to it.

The guard directed me to the main office where the general transactions are filtered. I forget now if there was a queue or a number system, but I was waiting to be served. Suddenly, there was an announcement over the PA system, saying “It is now 3 o’clock. Please stand up for our midday prayer.”

Dumbfounded, I searched for the insignia that said “Republic of the Philippines – Bureau of Internal Revenue.”

I was in the right place, at a government office that I needed to be in.

Why was I suddenly in the middle of a prayer meeting?

This is my life as a non-Catholic, in what has long been touted as “the only Catholic nation in Asia”.

Back at the BIR, most everyone stood up, and recited what seemed to me like a rehearsed prayer. It was apparently something they’ve been doing all their lives, because even as they “prayed,” some were combing their hair, some were passing snacks around, still others were fiddling with their computers or documents on the table, all while “praying.” Talk about multitasking.

There were two other people in that area who also remained seated, like me. Our eyes glanced at each other, and I remember the older gentleman shrugging his shoulders as our eyes met, as if to say “Wala tayong magagawa.” (“We can’t do anything.”) We obviously were the non-Catholics in the room, and saw no reason to pray – certainly not a prayer that wasn’t one of our choosing or one we didn’t even know the words to!

This exclusion from the religious majority is something that I have had to deal with all my life. I have never been a Catholic, nor had the desire to be one, even though we lived in a village that had their more-than-plain-pious Catholic badge stamped all over. The village church would always broadcast its prayers so that the entire neighborhood could hear them, and when the announcer always came to the part that said “pray for us, now and in the hour of our death,” my mom would always cast a frown, because in the religion that we were taught, once you’re dead, no more intercessions can be made, you will be judged on how you lived, period. She would always say that if we could “pray our way into heaven,” then there really is no point in doing/being good, because people on earth could still “pray” for you to get into heaven anyway, which made a lot of sense to me back then, and even until now.

I was pretty much shielded from the exclusion up until my high school years, because we went to a conservative Protestant school, and boy, was religion pounded into us rigorously. We had Sunday school, church services, one of our required subjects was Bible class, and every school activity started with prayers, invocations, and a smattering of Bible readings and verses. As you can tell, I was never a stranger to religious indoctrination or preaching. So I am well aware when a religion is trying to extend its influence on my life.

Only when I entered college did I slowly but surely start feeling that I was a very small part in the religious mix of this country. As is the case with most freshman classes, they usually assign “blocks” which made sure that you would have the same classmates subject after subject. When they started introducing themselves, they were all from Saint something-or-other school. And there would be the ever-present “preachers” who would ask if I wanted to join them in Bible study or some prayer meeting (I don’t really know what it was called). Whenever the block would meet socially or for homework/assignments, there would be a rosary and a corresponding prayer present. One of them asked why I didn’t seem to be praying, and when I said that I wasn’t Catholic and I didn’t know what they were praying, she said, “Oh…that’s right. You’re a Protestant.” Then she looked at me with a mixture of pity and ridicule.

Outside of school, in other social gatherings like parties of our relatives, the same thing would happen over and over. Most of my relatives are Catholics, and we would be forced to go along with whatever rituals it was that they did.

The biggest observation I’ve gathered,  based on what I experienced in my formative years in school, and what I experience now that I have become the minority, is that the Protestant indoctrination happens in a private setting, either in a church or a school that was clearly affiliated with that religion. And my parents chose that school – children don’t really have a say yet where to study in the elementary and high school years – it was chosen out of their own religious convictions.

It was, therefore, a big surprise that even in a supposedly non-conformist and secular environment such as UP (the University of the Philippines), the Catholic influence is so pervasive and intrusive so as to force people to do things that are clearly counter to one’s religious convictions or preferences. True, it wasn’t a police state situation, where there were armed guards ready to beat the daylights out of me if I failed to pray a rosary. But the ensuing judgement and pressure to act Catholic – in appearance only, which is what truly matters – is something even more potent than if it were a stick threatening to beat me for not conforming.

A well-meaning (Catholic) friend did listen to me harping on this point, and her response was something that I have heard countless times as the “bleeding heart” response: “I know it’s hard, pero ano ba naman mawawala sayo kung mag rosaryo ka, o magpakitang tao ka na nagdadasal ka din? Ilang minuto lang naman yun, tapos back to regular programming na, diba?” (“I know it’s hard, but what will you lose if you do the rosary, or just show people that you are also praying, just for show? After a few minutes, we’re back to regular programming, right?”)

I suppose I could let it slide, but what about the concept of freedom of religion?

Last I looked, we have a Constitution that guarantees that “no law shall be made respecting an establishment of religion” and “no religious test shall be required for the exercise of civil or political rights.” (Section 5, Article 3, Bill of Rights, 1987 Philippine Constitution. See http://www.chanrobles.com/article3.htm for full entry.)

Which is what has been weighing on my mind as a response to that: Why should I be forced to do it? Why should I be forced to follow Catholic doctrine when I am not a Catholic by faith nor choice?

In the current debates about the RH (Reproductive Health) Bill, it is rather clear to me that despite all the secular arguments that the anti-RH camp has come up with, the “fire” that keeps them burning with the intensity to oppose the RH Bill is because their religion (and religious leaders) dictates to them that artificial contraception is “immoral.” Note, however, that they are not against contraception per se - withdrawal, rhythm method, abstinence, these are all forms of contraception. (For those foaming at the mouth at this last sentence, kindly check the meaning of the word “contraception,” because it includes any method that prevents the sperm from meeting the egg.) So, as long as the kind of contraception has the “Catholic-approved” seal stamped on it, they see nothing “wrong.”

This intrusion has gone far enough.

The “fire” that gives me my intensity to fight for the RH Bill is because this is symptomatic of what I have had to fight for all my life: The freedom to choose my own religion, and be free from attempts to undermine that choice by clerics who would have their religious doctrines – Catholic, of course – be inscribed into law, subverting the concept of freedom of religion. This is essentially what the battle lines have become: Which side will you be on? One which honors and respects everyone’s religious preferences, and even the absence of one, as not everyone needs religion to have a fulfilling, meaningful life? Or the side that forcefully abrogates a singular religious doctrine, so that all will be forced to follow, regardless of religious preference?

I was never against Catholicism. I still am not. (Even though I find its mysogynistic and homophobic stances horrible.) Most of my friends are Catholics. This doesn’t hamper our friendships because they have never sought to forcefully induct me into their religion. Neither do I wish for them to change their religions because I don’t share the same one as theirs. We live and let live.

But when my rights as a non-Catholic are being readied to be trampled on, you can expect me to be uncompromising in defending my rights to the last. Stay out of my life, religious or otherwise. Why can’t we learn to respect each other’s preferences? Are tolerance and respect such alien and difficult concepts that men who claim to be the arbiters of morality cannot comprehend them on any given level?

Until the day that we officially turn into a Catholic theocracy, I will not be silenced.

–

Image taken from bible.ca