Ateneo de Manila University President

I’ve never had to make so many decisions in my life than when I became the President of the Ateneo. It’s not easy, especially when it concerns people you care for, people you love. Whenever my students get hurt, I also get hurt. Likewise, when there is victory, even in the simple things, I’d feel the same happiness and pride. One of the hardest challenges I’ve faced included the strike among the workers’ union last year. It was not easy because I knew the workers myself. It was difficult because we could not communicate effectively. It was almost like a divorce when you start okay then because of certain disagreements; you’re unable to reach a meeting point. I also felt their pain. I’ve never prayed so much in my life.

When I was not yet the President, I remember one Jesuit telling me that once I accept the role, I will no longer be able to see the truth. He said, people will only show you certain things you want to hear, certain sights you want to see. This is why there was a need to be discerning and wise, to be able to read between the lines of what people were truly saying, to keep listening.

And actually, I shared this with the faculty; we had a topic on mental health, and they asked me, father, what do you do? How do you deal with all the pressure? What helps is that I don’t take my role seriously. I am the President, yes, but I am greater than this. I am bigger than this role. One of the things I’ve learned is that this is only one of my missions, my assignment. I won’t be the President forever. I try my best not to let it get to me, and I have very good friends who help me. It is very important to have people who will tell you how it is, and you won’t be offended, you won’t be afraid. I don’t have a wife or kids to tell me things, but I have my brothers in the community. When I step into the Jesuit residence, I’m not seen as the President of the University. They’re my brothers, and they know me. They know that as Jesuits, we are more than our jobs here.

Life comes in waves, and St. Ignatius was a master at that. He wrestled with his own demons. The guy was a saint, but that doesn’t mean he did not get possessed with his own struggles. There was a time in his life when he just wanted to end it, racked with guilt. How he came through, how he tunnelled through that darkness, was God. I’m just grateful that here in the Ateneo, when there are trials, there are people who come and help. This awakens us. We realize that we aren’t perfect on our own and through this we become better. That’s what I like about Magis. There is no emphasis on doing the most or doing the best. There is only emphasis on doing more. You think, is this my best? Am I up to here only? Is this my peak? Magis is a stance of hope that there will always be something better, to see that reality is not closed. When people get caged, they think there is no escape. That is a terrible place to be in. In Magis, we see there is still light. There will always be light.

Back in college, I was not actually religious or pious. I even had a girlfriend. However, I became a member of ACIL where we taught religion to children in public schools. That really took me over. At some point in college, I went to this intense retreat called the Days of our Lord which was an eye-opener. This started my journey of discovering who God was, who Jesus was. Although, it was not merely spiritual. It was also at that time that social immersion became optional for Ateneans. I joined a group and we went up north where we stayed with farmers during harvest time. Hunger was so serious to the point that people ate frogs and dog meat. As an Atenista, it was a very different world. I began asking what my life was for. I could not reconcile how a God who was good would allow this to happen. It continued to be a struggle for me in prayer and in Philosophy.

When I graduated from the Ateneo, I didn’t know where life would lead me. It was almost serendipity when my high school professor from Davao asked me to come teach there. I thought to myself, wow, I’ve never been to Davao! I’ve never even left my parents’ home. My father pushed me to go, and my mother, naturally, did not want me to. You see, at that time, there were bombings in the area. However, I pursued it and this really helped me discern whether I wanted to go to priesthood. This time, it was my father who did not want me to go, saying that I’ve been brainwashed by the Jesuits, that I was an only son. However, I stood my ground. I said, if I do not pursue this now, I might lose the spark, the motivation. So I did.

Once I began my Jesuit studies, I was still set with doubts. It was never easy. For me, that’s okay. The ambivalence, the blurriness, the sign, that’s what faith is about. You don’t believe in facts, you take a leap precisely because you do not know. You just hope someone will be there to catch you when you take that leap. And guess what? Somebody catches you. Maybe not in the manner you were expecting, but remember you’re not totally destroyed. It’s an act of faith. As I reflect on it now, my own vocation, I think I could have been a good father too. It really could have gone both ways. However, it was a choice, a decision I made in my youth, that has led precisely to all this.

When I entered the priesthood, I told myself I would forget everything. Sabi ko, I’d just give mass and become a simple parish priest. I was young then, very idealistic. Father Nebres, our Superior, said “Here’s a physics book. You study!” I couldn’t help but think, “ I already left that world!” I told myself that I was already looking towards being a priest. Back then, what I had in mind was a caricature of a priest, a very limited view on what the role meant. Then I discovered that the Jesuits are a different kind of priest. Jesuits harness your talent precisely because it was given by God. Not everyone can do physics and not everyone can be a priest. I realized that there were so many Jesuit scientists. Even Padre Faura, who was Jose Rizal’s friend, had intense debates on Science and Faith. Many Jesuits were composers, psychologists, and lawyers. They were professionals but they were also priests.

People think that faith and science collide. However, I personally do not see any tension between them. If you have a shallow view of God and faith, a shallow view of science, then yes, they’d coincide. Sabi ko nga, whenever I see something as simple as a rainbow, I see it as more than just colors. As someone who studied physics, I know how it is made, how difficult it is for a mere rainbow to form. I can appreciate it more, see its grandeur, the majesty, the wonder of it all. Last Easter, I presented a picture of a black hole as my homily. Sabi ko nga, technically, you can never take a picture of a black hole because it’s a gobbler of light and matter. You won’t be able to see it. What you see are only swirls of light and matter around it. However, the black hole is there. I talked about things that though unseen, are nonetheless existent. As St. Paul said, it is important to walk not by sight, but by faith. He says, how can you hope for things you already see? Hope for things that are unseen but are there. I ended the homily by saying that on that day, in some places, easter eggs would be hidden from the sight of children. Nonetheless, children will hunt for them because they know they are there.

Physics really helps me reflect. When I reflect on this world, I say, oo nga noh, we are just in one little corner of this thing called the universe. I wonder, what a waste if we were the only ones to enjoy all of this. As one philosopher said, perhaps God is more of an artist than an economist. An economist would be more sparing with the resources. But you see from this world God was not sparing in the least.

My advice to the LS students? Breathe. When you go through these difficult moments during the homestretch, don’t forget to breathe. When you breathe, you realize that there is life, you’re alive, you’ll get through this. Meaning, inhale, absorb the goodness, there’s goodness around us, we are never lacking in that, though we think otherwise. Take a second look. The word respect comes from that: respicere - to look again, to see. Looking again means to respect and to be immersed in wonder.

— Fr. Jose Ramon “Jett” T. Villarin, S.J.

#DeepBreathely

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