Upset over a new law that provides poor Filipinos with easier access
to birth control methods, Catholic Church leaders threw their weight
around ahead of the May 13 midterm elections — but they miscalculated
their heft.
In cathedrals around the country, clergymen hung red-and-black
banners asking the faithful to vote for legislative candidates who
oppose the Reproductive Health Law, which they view as a first step
towards legalizing abortion.
These candidates comprised what some
bishops and priests dubbed "Team Life" while those who favored the law
were branded by conservative Catholics as “Team Death.”
But many “Team Death” candidates triumphed and in the aftermath of
the voting, Ramon Arguelles, the archbishop of the city of Lipa, told
reporters: “I am not happy.”
A growing number of Filipino
Catholics apparently feel the same way about their church.
Although the
Philippines remains the third-largest Roman Catholic country in the
world after Brazil and Mexico,
experts say that the influence of church leaders has been steadily
declining as Filipinos disregard Catholic doctrine or, in some cases,
find other faiths.
Many people disagree with the church’s conservative stance on social
issues and some have become disillusioned by the Vatican’s slow
response to the church sexual abuse scandals.
Mirroring so-called
“de-churchification” in other predominantly Catholic countries, a recent
survey showed that only 37 percent of Filipino Catholics go to Mass
compared to 66 percent in 1991.
Shortly after services on a recent Sunday at the Malate Church, one of Manila’s oldest, Father Michael Martin, an Irish priest who has lived in the Philippines since the 1960s, took stock of the church’s troubles.
“Every institution has its bright side and its dark side, and in the
course of addressing the problems you may lose a lot of disciples,”
Martin said. “The Catholic Church, for the most part, is ruled and
governed by elderly white male permanent celibates and that has a lot of
limiting effects. Their world experience is quite far removed from
people around them.”
Even so, the church remains one of the country’s most powerful
institutions. About 80 percent of the 100 million people in the
Philippines consider themselves Catholics, a legacy of 350 years of
Spanish colonial rule.
Politicians often refrain from crossing the
church which is why both abortion and divorce remain illegal. Newspapers
carry religious columns with names like “Our Daily Bread.”
Besides
churches, Mass is sometimes held in shopping malls, banks and other
nontraditional venues.
By some accounts, the high point for the modern Catholic Church in
the Philippines came during the “People Power” revolution of the 1980s.
Although the church supported longtime dictator Ferdinand Marcos,
Catholic leaders began to distance themselves from the regime because
they feared the alliance could permanently damage their reputation.
At
one critical juncture during the uprising against Marcos, defecting
military officers barricaded themselves inside the defense ministry.
Catholic leaders voiced their approval and called on people to surround
the building to prevent loyalist troops from intervening. Marcos fled
the country shortly afterwards.
“The church knew it had a choice of either being totally identified
with Marcos or making a difference” on behalf of democracy, said Harry
Roque, a Manila lawyer and political analyst. “The church made the right
choice.”
But more recently, the institution has seemed badly out of step with average Filipinos.
For example, the Reproductive Health Law mandates that the
government provide free condoms, birth control pills and other
contraceptive methods to people who can’t afford them and provide sex
education in public schools.
Public health officials say the law is
extremely important in a country where more than a quarter of the
population is poor and where teen pregnancies are common.
“Women will have more access” to contraceptives, said Susan Mercado
of the World Health Organization. “There will be more education on
responsible parenthood and, overall, that will improve the health of
women and children in this country.”
The church hierarchy firmly opposed the law which was approved in
December after similar proposals over the past two decades had gone down
to defeat.
Even so, the Supreme Court in March suspended its implementation until judges hear arguments from Catholic groups that have filed petitions arguing the legislation is unconstitutional.
Passage of the Reproductive Health Law also gave rise to the church
campaign to elect social conservatives in this month’s legislative
elections.
"We know (greater access to birth control) will just snowball later
on. After this, they will file bills for divorce, euthanasia, abortion,
and homosexual marriages," Bishop Vicente Navarra of Bacolod City in the
central Philippines, who came up with the "Team Life-Team Death"
banners, told the AFP news agency.
But the electoral drive failed, in part, because the Catholic Church
itself is divided between liberals and conservatives with many bishops
and priests saying they support some parts of the new law.
“The Catholic vote is a myth and this year’s national and local elections validated that,” wrote Aries Rufo on Rappler, a Filipino news website.
Some Catholic priests insist that even if the number of churchgoers
is declining, they would rather minister to true believers than
Filipinos who are just going through the motions.
“We are not begging for people to become members,” said Father
Maximo Villanueva, who preaches at the Ermitas Catholic Church in
downtown Manila. “We are more interested in quality than quantity.”
Yet Villanueva is also willing to reach out to Filipinos in unconventional settings.
On a recent Sunday, he offered Mass at the Robinsons Place shopping
center.
Malls may be temples of consumerism but unlike many churches in
hot, humid Manila, they are air-conditioned and draw huge crowds.
Villanueva set up a temporary altar on the fourth floor between a
Cineplex called MovieWorld and a barber shop.
An organist began playing
religious songs and, one by one, shoppers plunked down on plastic chairs
to listen.
By the time the line formed to take Holy Communion, it was a
standing-room-only crowd.
“If people cannot go to the church,” Villanueva said afterwards, “we will go to them.”