VENEZUELA VISIT
Today, March 9, 2013, TV News Channels report the death of Hugo Chavez, president of Venezuela, a country in the continent of South America. Popular media classifies him as a dictator who had curtailed a number of freedoms, religious freedom being one of them, among his people during his 3-decade tenure.
The news brought memories of my visit to Venezuela in 1997 to visit the shrine in Betania where our Blessed Mother was reported to have had an apparition. The place was around two hours drive from Caracas, the capital of Venezuela, where our tour group was billeted.
During my stay, I noticed that the residential sections of the city did not show much of the so-called affluence which oil, its natural resource and export, had done. To my mind, the wealth of an oil-producing nation would somehow show in the earning capacity of its constituents and be reflected in their life-style, too. And the Latino blood which is widely accepted as warm and passionate would burst in the flashy colors and wild array of beauty in its surroundings. I guessed, I must have relied too much in the movies and their portrayal of a typical Latin "senor or senorita."
The Shrine of our Lady of Betania was in the vast "hacienda" of a wealthy grandmother to whom our Blessed Mother reportedly appeared. It was a beautiful place with a brook meandering within the area. Near the statue was a small "waterfall" which for some strange reason, I thought to be man-made much like the fountains used for landscaping operated by electric pumps. Many people were taking bottles of water from it considering it much like that of Lourdes, France. I did not take any. I looked around hoping to see a blue butterfly which was supposed to indicate the presence of Mary, our Mother. I did not see any. A covered space for approximately a hundred persons or so with a built-in stage served as a resting area and for the celebration of the Liturgy of the Eucharist at certain times.
My first reaction upon seeing the alleged visionary on stage was of complete shock and disbelief! The grandmother was sporting a beribboned wide-brimmed hat adorned with large multi-colored flowers. Her face was heavily made-up with extra bright red lipstick with unmistakably luscious sheen. Her hands which were kept waving in the air as she spoke to the people in Spanish sported extra long fingernails painted in burgundy. I could not count the number of rings on several fingers of both hands. My heart sank! I just could not make myself believe that our Blessed Mother would appear to such a person! I guess, my whole psyche had been attuned to the tender innocence of Bernadette of Lourdes and Lucia, Jacinta and Marto of Fatima and Juan Diego of Guadalupe, Mexico. Even the visionaries Vicka and Maria, with whom I had conversed in Medjugorje were so simple and "holy" in looks and attire. My spirits was at its lowest ebb!
I slowly made my way towards the place of our Lady of Betania where I could unsnarl the knots of unbelief that ran amok in my mind and heart. I sat under the shade of a tree a few meters away, took several deep breaths, closed my eyes and invoked the Holy Spirit to help me. Repeatedly, I recited the Biblical passage,
"Lord, help my unbelief!" Then I let moments of long silence reign. I followed, "Be still. Know that I am God!" I knew that in the silence, God speaks to the "ears" of our hearts. I let the hands of Time tick languidly away. Then I felt the slight warmth of a certain "calmness" sweep through my rattled nerves. I have settled down, yet a misty cloud of question marks still hovered in the convolutions of my brain.
Anxious to find answers to my questions re the truth of the Betania incident, I ran through the pages of the Bible in my mind... "I am the Lord, your God. Your thoughts are not my thoughts; your ways are not my ways." I tried my best to let the passage sink through my cloud-enveloped mind. At the same time, the record of world-known visonaries and their simple innocence and their easily-seen outward "holiness" kept me from accepting God's words at that instance! At that moment, something held me strongly anchored on total "disbelief." My mind completely blotted out the concept that "God is Truth" and so His words are infallible!
Just to give some credence to my doubts, I reviewed the happenings in the meeting hall. There was the Grandmother (I never learned her name) sitting and laughing with the Bishop of Betania who, from newspaper reports, unilaterally gave his statement to the veracity of the reported visions. I immediately guessed that being human, he must have been lavished with many sumptuous dinners and gifts money could buy. I let myself be vulnerable to unkind thoughts about a "servant of God." I wanted to justify my position! Then there was the Grandmother's talk, in Spanish, before the "pilgrims" complete with the accoutrements of a "night-owl" in the honky-tonk area of a big city. It was so, so distressing and repulsive to me! My innermost thoughts must have been so obvious to her that she looked at me directly a few times during her discourse through thick, long, false eyelashes. I looked back to her as intensely, too! Then I began to feel sorry for the large crowd of people who, I believed, had been "fooled" into her web of deception. I even entertained the thought that some of them must have been "paid" to act as believers just like what the Pharisees did so as to have people hurl false accusations to Jesus before the Sanhedrin!
I looked at my watch and noted that it was time for our departure for Caracas. I decided to take another route back to the bus. A short distance away, I saw a very long cement wall which I perceived to serve as a fence. But what prompted me to walk towards it was the number of people milling along its periphery. Three or four yards away, I stopped short in my tracks, I looked intensely at the marble plaques of various sizes glued to the wall, all expressing "Thanksgiving"- thanksgiving for healing in its multifaceted aspects and a variety of other human ills under the sun! My eyes dropped from their sockets as with open-mouthed wonder I perused through the message conveyed on the plaques. How could dozens, nay, hundreds of people be wrong! My knees began to "water" from the impact of the astounding revelation that hit me like darts on a target board. My heart sank and I bowed my head in shame! I spent some time profusely expressing, "I am very sorry, Lord, truly sorry!" through my tears. Remorse written all over me, I whispered, "Your Word is truth, Oh, Lord! Indeed, Your thoughts are not my thoughts, Your ways are not my ways!"
"GOD CHOSE THOSE WHOM THE
WORLD CONSIDERS ABSURD TO SHAME
THE WISE, HE SINGLED OUT THE WEAK
TO SHAME THE STRONG."
1 Corinthians 1: 27
The news brought memories of my visit to Venezuela in 1997 to visit the shrine in Betania where our Blessed Mother was reported to have had an apparition. The place was around two hours drive from Caracas, the capital of Venezuela, where our tour group was billeted.
During my stay, I noticed that the residential sections of the city did not show much of the so-called affluence which oil, its natural resource and export, had done. To my mind, the wealth of an oil-producing nation would somehow show in the earning capacity of its constituents and be reflected in their life-style, too. And the Latino blood which is widely accepted as warm and passionate would burst in the flashy colors and wild array of beauty in its surroundings. I guessed, I must have relied too much in the movies and their portrayal of a typical Latin "senor or senorita."
The Shrine of our Lady of Betania was in the vast "hacienda" of a wealthy grandmother to whom our Blessed Mother reportedly appeared. It was a beautiful place with a brook meandering within the area. Near the statue was a small "waterfall" which for some strange reason, I thought to be man-made much like the fountains used for landscaping operated by electric pumps. Many people were taking bottles of water from it considering it much like that of Lourdes, France. I did not take any. I looked around hoping to see a blue butterfly which was supposed to indicate the presence of Mary, our Mother. I did not see any. A covered space for approximately a hundred persons or so with a built-in stage served as a resting area and for the celebration of the Liturgy of the Eucharist at certain times.
My first reaction upon seeing the alleged visionary on stage was of complete shock and disbelief! The grandmother was sporting a beribboned wide-brimmed hat adorned with large multi-colored flowers. Her face was heavily made-up with extra bright red lipstick with unmistakably luscious sheen. Her hands which were kept waving in the air as she spoke to the people in Spanish sported extra long fingernails painted in burgundy. I could not count the number of rings on several fingers of both hands. My heart sank! I just could not make myself believe that our Blessed Mother would appear to such a person! I guess, my whole psyche had been attuned to the tender innocence of Bernadette of Lourdes and Lucia, Jacinta and Marto of Fatima and Juan Diego of Guadalupe, Mexico. Even the visionaries Vicka and Maria, with whom I had conversed in Medjugorje were so simple and "holy" in looks and attire. My spirits was at its lowest ebb!
I slowly made my way towards the place of our Lady of Betania where I could unsnarl the knots of unbelief that ran amok in my mind and heart. I sat under the shade of a tree a few meters away, took several deep breaths, closed my eyes and invoked the Holy Spirit to help me. Repeatedly, I recited the Biblical passage,
"Lord, help my unbelief!" Then I let moments of long silence reign. I followed, "Be still. Know that I am God!" I knew that in the silence, God speaks to the "ears" of our hearts. I let the hands of Time tick languidly away. Then I felt the slight warmth of a certain "calmness" sweep through my rattled nerves. I have settled down, yet a misty cloud of question marks still hovered in the convolutions of my brain.
Anxious to find answers to my questions re the truth of the Betania incident, I ran through the pages of the Bible in my mind... "I am the Lord, your God. Your thoughts are not my thoughts; your ways are not my ways." I tried my best to let the passage sink through my cloud-enveloped mind. At the same time, the record of world-known visonaries and their simple innocence and their easily-seen outward "holiness" kept me from accepting God's words at that instance! At that moment, something held me strongly anchored on total "disbelief." My mind completely blotted out the concept that "God is Truth" and so His words are infallible!
Just to give some credence to my doubts, I reviewed the happenings in the meeting hall. There was the Grandmother (I never learned her name) sitting and laughing with the Bishop of Betania who, from newspaper reports, unilaterally gave his statement to the veracity of the reported visions. I immediately guessed that being human, he must have been lavished with many sumptuous dinners and gifts money could buy. I let myself be vulnerable to unkind thoughts about a "servant of God." I wanted to justify my position! Then there was the Grandmother's talk, in Spanish, before the "pilgrims" complete with the accoutrements of a "night-owl" in the honky-tonk area of a big city. It was so, so distressing and repulsive to me! My innermost thoughts must have been so obvious to her that she looked at me directly a few times during her discourse through thick, long, false eyelashes. I looked back to her as intensely, too! Then I began to feel sorry for the large crowd of people who, I believed, had been "fooled" into her web of deception. I even entertained the thought that some of them must have been "paid" to act as believers just like what the Pharisees did so as to have people hurl false accusations to Jesus before the Sanhedrin!
I looked at my watch and noted that it was time for our departure for Caracas. I decided to take another route back to the bus. A short distance away, I saw a very long cement wall which I perceived to serve as a fence. But what prompted me to walk towards it was the number of people milling along its periphery. Three or four yards away, I stopped short in my tracks, I looked intensely at the marble plaques of various sizes glued to the wall, all expressing "Thanksgiving"- thanksgiving for healing in its multifaceted aspects and a variety of other human ills under the sun! My eyes dropped from their sockets as with open-mouthed wonder I perused through the message conveyed on the plaques. How could dozens, nay, hundreds of people be wrong! My knees began to "water" from the impact of the astounding revelation that hit me like darts on a target board. My heart sank and I bowed my head in shame! I spent some time profusely expressing, "I am very sorry, Lord, truly sorry!" through my tears. Remorse written all over me, I whispered, "Your Word is truth, Oh, Lord! Indeed, Your thoughts are not my thoughts, Your ways are not my ways!"
"GOD CHOSE THOSE WHOM THE
WORLD CONSIDERS ABSURD TO SHAME
THE WISE, HE SINGLED OUT THE WEAK
TO SHAME THE STRONG."
1 Corinthians 1: 27
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