SULONG PADAYON: A Back-to-Basics Recollection
IN 2021, ATE THELMA (Ponferrada) coordinated for the Holy Spirit Parish community, a gathering of the faithful to dialogue on Synodality. The two-day consultation-discussions are in response to the call of the late Pope Francis for the involvement and participation of the whole people of God in the life and mission of the Church.
Pope Francis had this to say about a Synodal Church: “It is a mutual listening in which everyone has something to learn – the lay faithful, the bishops, the pope: all listening to one another, and all listening to the Holy Spirit, the “Spirit of Truth” (John 14:17) in order to know what He is saying to the Church.”
His statement served as the theme of Fr. Geowen Porcincula’s Recollection Talk, “Sulong Padayon,” whose meaning is a combination of a Tagalog and Visayan exhortation to ‘move forward.’ It is not just talk about synodality but putting the process into practice through a Synod Implementation Framework which consisted of four elements: Tinig-tawag; Tawid-tanaw; Tapak-tindig; and Tipan.
Fr. Geo, CM, was Fr. Eidh’s Formator and is the Executive Director of the Vincentian Foundation and Chair of Vincentian Social Ministry. He said that synodality is not about us, Church people, but first of all about the poor, the excluded, and the unchurched. There is danger in our inward looking and in assuming it is about our communion, our participation, and our mission. The implementation framework specifies that the Church that we dream of listens (Tinig-tawag) not just with ears but with the heart and knows how to be silent and walk with the wounded. In a synodal church, listening becomes a form of healing, where people feel truly heard, especially those carrying, doubts, pain, or exclusion. Here, accompaniment is gentle and faithful, broken families and the forgotten are held with tenderness, and discernment happens not alone but together, grounded in prayer.
We dream of a Church, he says, where formation is lifelong, rooted in Christ, and alive with mission – that teaches not only doctrines but how to love. One that envisions (Tawid-tanaw) catechesis forming both heart and mind, relevant and responsive, and with clergy and laity formed as missionary disciples.
Through synodality, we hope for structures that are transparent, decisions that emerge from discernment, and leaders who listen before they speak (Tapak-tindig). A synodal Church invites lay people to equal responsibility, not just consultation. And to build trust through accountability – not just upward to superiors, but outward to the people of God.
In this Church, everyone belongs (families, women, the poor, indigenous people, LGBTQIA, PWDs, the elderly, and the youth. No one is invisible. Basic Ecclesial Communities (BECs) become seeds of synodality at the grassroots level, inclusion is not an initiative but an identity (Tipan). A synodal Church builds bridges with others, not just invites them in – in humility, love, and hope.
He shared the story of his student who was only shy of an ordination to become a full-fledged priest. The seminarian approached him one day and intimated that he wanted to back out of the seminary because he has a girlfriend. Fr. Geo conducted a brief mirror introspection with him, where what the student could only see was himself gradually covering the entirety of his reflection. Then he asked the student to accompany him to a place under the bridgea’saa’ of Congressional Extension leading to Tandang Sora. It was where 14 or 15 families squatted, with most of them sleeping in karitons. They slept there with them for one night. In the morning of the next day, the student told Fr. Geo that he no longer wants to leave the seminary; he realized that he was so full of himself, of his personal circumstances, that he failed to notice the others whose needs were more than his.
Fr. Geo concluded that his case was a lesson in walking together with the poor to get there.
Then he played Gen Verde’s “Walk on Holy Ground” that stilled everybody. The song had French and Spanish versions. A very fitting underscoring of the seminarian’s experience.
But Fr. Geo was not done with us. He had another story to tell. This time, it was about Nanay Inday Gagi Ramirez, her husband, and their 12 children. They lived in a fishing village and ate mostly fish. To extend the life of her husband’s catch, Nanay Gagi salted what remained of the fish and kept them in a basket hanging from the kitchen roof. That night was no different from the other nights before. They were all seated and started to eat except for Nanay Gagi, who would rise from her seat every now and then, to check at their neighbor’s house. Meanwhile, the others continued eating until the fish was finished and the father reached out for the basket overhead and started to fry what was in it. But Nanay Inday was quick to tell him to leave the fish alone. Her husband retorted that it won’t be a problem because he can always go back to the sea and catch some more. He asked her to come to the table already and stop worrying about tomorrow. Nanay Giga exclaimed, “Hindi ganon. Ang problema natin ay bukas pa. Ang problema ng kapitbahay natin ay ngayon na.”
That hit me like a jolt. The song has not completed its effect on me. And I felt liquid threatening to come out of the corners of my eyes. Only the poor know how it is to be hungry. I understood perfectly Nanay Giga’s anxiety.
