CHAPLAINSBLOG

A few weeks ago, I met an A.B. (able bodied seaman) named Dino aboard the MOL Express, a vessel bound for Asia that would visit Oakland again in three months.  Dino and his wife, Maria Theresa, are expecting their first baby at the end of August, while he is still at sea. 

As we stood in the recreation room after celebrating Mass together, the group of Filipino seafarers laughed and joked with Dino. They assured me they would throw a celebration for him when the happy day arrived. 

“How do you feel? “ I asked. 

The very young Dino smiled deeply, “Scared,” he admitted. “Excited,” he added.

He told me that they knew Maria was carrying a boy child. “What will you call him?”

“Dino Junior!” the seafarers chimed in. 

The eldest man, the boson, or boss man, added what sounded to me like “Dino Sur”. 

I thought of the Philippine provinces – Zambuanga del Sur, or Camarines Sur, and I asked, “Dino of the South?” 

They roared with laughter. Then the older seafarer made claws with his fingers and growled as he repeated, “Dino SAUR!”

Joining in the joke, I suggested, “How about Dino REX!”  “Dino the King!”

What will they call him?  In what language will he be named?

I’ve come to understand that most of the names of Filipino seafarers today are inherited from centuries of Spanish occupation, as well as the 19^th century decree that changed and catalogued Asian Island names to Spanish ones. Names like Renato, the chief cook whom I visited on Friday, aboard a vessel whose manning agency does not require the company to issue visas. Without a visa to allow him off the ship, our conversation was one of the only ones with an outside person that Renato will have for ten months. He works these long months to pay for the schooling of his two daughters – one beginning college to study as an engineer, and one who soon begins kindergarten, meaning perhaps 16 more years of such work and time away from his family. 

Seafarers like Renato and Dino might name their children differently than their parents did– in my six months as Senior Chaplain at the Seamen’s Church Institute at the Port of Oakland, I’ve heard some interesting methods for choosing baby names. Some babies are named for boxing champions, some for rock stars, still others for flowers, or even after the places where they were conceived. Naming has always been important; it conveys our identity, and our hopes for our children. 

I shared this story when I preached recently for the Episcopal Church of Holy Child and St. Martin, in Daly City, California. Pictured here is the Santo Nino standing in their sanctuary, a central symbol of devotion for many Filipino/as, especially perhaps for those from Cebu, or Cebuanas. Many legends surround the origin of this elaborately dressed statue of the Christ child, and how it came to Cebu. European history states that Magellan gave this statue to the Queen of Cebu when he arrived in 1521 and convinced the leaders to pledge their allegiance to Spain and become baptized. Upon her baptism, the Queen’s named changed from Humamay to Juana, her colonized name.

Decades after Magellan’s death, Santo Nino had become so much a part of indigenous culture and devotion that some Native legends maintain the Holy Child was part of the land from the very beginning. Many Cebuanas called him Bathala, a Cebuano word for God.  

A devotion to children is obviously part of Philippine culture, whether on container ships, in Philippine communities, or in U.S churches with a large Filipino/a population. This devotion appears not only in icons, but also in the people themselves. On the container ships, fathers may work for years to pay for their children’s education; at Holy Child in Daly City, children and young people fill the sanctuary, as acolytes, choir members, and excited parishioners. You can see some of their lovely faces in this photo with +Marc Andrus, Episcopal Bishop of the Diocese of California. 

I pray for a future when Philippine families will be united, when the children of the Philippines will be able to stay home if they wish to and make a life for themselves, a life of promise and stability. I pray for all people to be able to name their own future, to know their identity as a beloved child of God. 

Our Father, on this 10th anniversary of 9/11, give courage and faith to us who still are bereaved, that we may continue to have strength to meet the days ahead in the comfort of a reasonable and holy hope, in the joyful expectation of eternal life with those we love. Help us, we pray, in the midst of things we cannot understand, to believe and trust in the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, and the resurrection to life everlasting. Grant us grace to entrust those who died in New York, Washington, and Pennsylvania to thy never-failing love; receive them into the arms of thy mercy, and remember them according  to the favor which thou bearest unto thy people. We pray this in the name of Jesus Christ our Resurrected Lord. Amen.