Numbers don’t always add up in the Philippines

Despite leading the world in baptisms, the Catholic country must remember to be faithful and uphold truth

Numbers don’t always add up in the Philippines

The apostolic nuncio to the Philippines, Archbishop Charles Brown, made this announcement over Radio Veritas the day after Easter Sunday: “I am glad to share that the Philippines had the highest number of baptisms in 2020 compared to other places in the world.”

According to the Vatican’s Annuarium Statisticum Ecclesiae, or Statistical Yearbook of the Church, 1,603,283 Catholic children were baptized in 2020 in the Philippines. The pope’s envoy added that the statistics are “a living testament of faith in the 500 years of Catholicism in the country.” Next to the Philippines came Mexico, which recorded 1.53 million baptisms, and Brazil with 1.12 million.

History tells us that around this time of year, 501 years ago, the first evangelization happened in the Philippines and the first baptism of the natives was administered by Padre Pedro de Valderrama.

Italian author Antonio Pigafetta, Magellan’s chronicler, gave a first-hand narrative of the historic mass baptism in 1521 that included Cebu’s chieftain, Rajah Humabon, and his wife, Hara Humamay: “We were baptizing 800 souls among men, women and children.”

In April last year, Archbishop Brown graced the cultural re-enactment of the first baptism in 1521 in front of Magellan’s Cross at Plaza Sugbo, Cebu City. On the same occasion, also in 2021, Archbishop Jose Palma of Cebu baptized 100 infants to mark the start of the three-day preparation for the 500th anniversary of the first Christian baptism in the Philippines. 

By 1605, 84 years after the first baptism, Catholic Filipinos became the vast majority of the population and the Philippines became Asia’s Catholic bulwark.

Infant baptism is a sacred tradition, but it seems that the Filipino Church for centuries has focused itself more on sacramentalization and less on evangelization

This is what American historian Edward Gaylord Bourne narrated in 1903 when he was writing about the first century of evangelization and how the Catholic Church was firmly established and steadily growing: “Inspired by apostolic zeal … gifted and tireless, they [Augustinian friars] labored in harmony with Legazpi, won converts, and checked the slowly advancing tide of Mohammedanism.”

Fast forward to the 19th century and see how freemasonry influenced many Filipino intellectuals who were baptized Catholics as babies.

Times had changed but the tradition of baptizing infants did not. The oldest member of the Propaganda Movement triumvirate, Marcelo H. Del Pilar, was born on Aug. 30, 1850, in Bulakan, Bulacan, and was baptized one week later.

Another member, Graciano Lopez Jaena, was born in Jaro, Iloilo, on Dec. 18, 1856, and was baptized two days later. His parents were like the rest of the Catholic world who believed that baptism as the Sacrament of Initiation absolutely removed the original Sin in baby Graciano’s soul and made him, at that instant, a precious child of God.

On June 22, 1861, infant Rizal was baptized by Padre Rufino Collantes, parish priest of Calamba in Laguna. Her mother chose Jose as his first name in honor of Saint Joseph, foster father of Jesus and husband of Mary, to whom Dona Teodora was ardently devoted.

Another Filipino hero was Bonifacio. His first name was Andres because he was born on Nov. 30, the feast day of San Andres, the patron saint of Manila. He was baptized before the end of that same year.

Paradoxically, these Filipino heroes who were baptized Catholics as infants hated the Catholic Spanish friars the most. Thus, the inclination is to ask why.

After 500 years, why do millions of Catholic devotees of the Black Nazarene appear to manifest an unexplainable, almost fanatical, desire for the wooden statue rather than for the Holy Eucharist?

Infant baptism is a sacred tradition, but it seems that the Filipino Church for centuries has focused itself more on sacramentalization and less on evangelization, which resulted in the rise of nominal, cafeteria and baptism-marriage-funeral sort of Catholics and the unchurched.

And the most pertinent “quintessential question of quality over quantity” or Q.Q.Q.Q. goes like this: Is a bigger Church a stronger and better Church?

After 500 years, why do millions of Catholic devotees of the Black Nazarene appear to manifest an unexplainable, almost fanatical, desire for the wooden statue rather than for the Holy Eucharist?

Why do 1,000 more Catholics line up to kiss Padre Pio’s relic than go to confession, making it appear that sacramentals matter more than the sacraments?

What about corruption? It might be well to digest how Filipino sociologist and author Randy David put it: “We need to ask ourselves how we are able to blend so much religious fervor with a culture of corruption, or mix a manifest devotion to the exemplary figure of a selfless Christ with a life of greed, or Gospel values with hate, oppression and selfishness.”

Perhaps one Filipino archbishop was correct when, after reading the signs of the times, he declared in 2013: “It is the failure of religion to make morality and ethics the foundation of all human actions and endeavors after almost 500 years of Gospel presence.”

His declaration was nearly confirmed by the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of the Philippines when the bishops acknowledged their prophetic failure in 2019: “We have not been effective enough in our catechesis about the faith.” 

What is the use of being a supermajority or a predominantly Catholic nation without commitment and loyalty to the Catholic baptismal promises?

Shouldn’t the Q.Q.Q.Q. lead to a more focused pastoral action on the part of the moral leaders?

Are quality standards carefully applied to the parish administration of the sacraments in the same way that BMW and Honda do to the assembly lines of cars so that the Philippines may perhaps nip in the bud both the problems of nominal Christianity and Catholic evangelical emergency? If not, why not?

If mass baptism leads to mass production of members, what then is the meaning of growth without depth? What is the use of being a supermajority or a predominantly Catholic nation without commitment and loyalty to the Catholic baptismal promises?

Archbishop Gabriele Caccia, a former apostolic nuncio to the Philippines, once said at a Mass in Puerto Princesa City, Palawan, in November 2019: “Christian faith is not about numbers, size or even popularity but the quality is of the essence.”

The context of what Archbishop Caccia said is this: He was speaking about Pope Francis’ apostolic journey to Thailand and Japan where Catholics are a tiny minority. “Numbers don’t matter. What is important is to be faithful and bring the light of truth,” he insisted.

To become the light of the world and the salt of the earth again! That’s more pertinent for every Christian to make this world a little better.

* Jose Mario Bautista Maximiano is the author of ‘MCMLXXII: 500-Taong Kristiyano, Volume Two’ (Claretian, 2021) and ‘24 PLUS CONTEMPORARY PEOPLE: God Writing Straight with Twists and Turns’ (Claretian, 2019). The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official editorial position of UCA News.