REGISTERED IN HEAVEN

By Daryl F. Famisaran

September 1999

“My name is already registered in heaven!” Datu Malinas answered as Pastor Edgar Lloren stretched out his hand inviting the chief to come to the water for baptism.  “I just made it sure that my people are baptized first,”  he stressed.  “My assignment now is to get other chiefs in the other villages around to join me in the new-found faith of my village.  Then all of us tribal leaders will request you to baptize us in the next batch.”

 

Datu Malinas was a notorious killer.  He was the head of the headhunters who mercilessly killed anybody who crossed their way when they were out to kill.  His tribe called the Matiglangilan is the most feared among the Manobos.

I recall when I was a student missionary in 1980 that whenever the Matiglangilan was seen, the children would run for their lives.  The parents always reminded the children that the Matiglangilan do not want to be stared at or laughed at.  These actions might be enough to stir the anger of the Matiglangilan enough to kill an individual right there and then.  The Matiglangilan are easily recognized by their style of headdress.  The men always carried with them their sharp bolo knife designed to cut a person’s neck.

When the SULADS sent the survey team to this village, they nearly lost their lives.  Head hunters sprung from the bush and surprised the survey team as they cooked their lunch near a stream.  It was fortunate that the team leader was a Manobo and he faced the ready-to-strike killers.  The other members of the survey team were instant in prayer to the Lord.  The team leader explained that he is also a Manobo—the son of a datu.  He was leading a team to survey the possible school in their village.  The warriors were convinced and dropped their bolos.  The survey team offered food to the curious and astonished killers.  The killers ate quickly and left.

Upon arrival in the village, the survey team found it apparently deserted.  No one was in sight.  They then noticed curious investigating eyes peering through the slits of the walls.  Behind those split bamboo walls the villagers clutched their spears and arrows ready to strike at the sound of the alarm from their datu (chief).  The datu revealed later that they were very curious what these intruders wanted in their village.

The team leader talked with the datu.  The talk proved effective as the datu called out a bit later and the people of the village materialized from their homes and crowded around the visitors.  At the datu’s command, the people welcomed the visitors.

Student missionaries assigned to the village of Lapangon did their job well.  The first baptism of 35 was March, 1999.  The second baptism of 65 was in August, 1999.  The third baptism is scheduled for the third week of September, 1999.  This time the datu, true to his word, will be baptized together with the tribal leaders from the surrounding villages.

As the time approaches for this baptism, please remember them in prayer.  Also remember that five villages surrounding Lapangon are requesting student missionaries to come to their villages also to teach them the good news of salvation.  We have the missionaries—we need the funds.

One hundred dollars a month will keep a student missionary in the field and will also pay for a month of scholarship for the student upon completion of his/her service in the mountain.  Statistics indicate that $100 will win one and a half souls. 

Mark your contributions for MVC SULADS and send it to:

Adventist Mission Society of America

2411 S. Azusa Ave.

West Covina, CA 91792

The SULADS say, “THANK YOU”.

OUR GOD IS ALIVE

By Dave Soreqo

Lapangon Mission School

April, 2000

               
The people of Lapangon Mission School have learned the habit of praying.  Morning and evening worships have been part of their everyday routine.  They pray to God expressing from their hearts as talking to a friend.  Even in public they are not ashamed to pray.

One Wednesday morning, three men from Lapangon came down to Magkalungay village to sell their gathered abaca fibers.  Magkalungay is still a Manobo village with few lowlanders that buy and sell abaca.  One lowlander who also buys and sells abaca is a Seventh-day Adventist.  They sell their abaca to this man they call brother.  Near the house of this brother is a Seventh-day Adventist Church.  The nearest house to the church belongs to a Manobo who is a drunkard. 

That evening, those three Lapangon men attended midweek prayer meeting with that lowlander brother.  Still in their working clothes and as usual with bolos tucked on their hip sides, they invited that Manobo neighbor to attend the prayer meeting.  Drunk, he started to laugh and make fun of our God.  He insulted our Lapangon brothers of our God. “Why are you attending church?”  Our brothers were ashamed by the rudeness of the man. 

One brother who was one of the warriors baptized Last November could no longer tolerate the ridicule.  “I’d better teach this guy a lesson.”  Holding his bolo he stood up and went outside.  The two others were alerted and followed him outside.

“No, you should not do that.  You’re baptized already.  We should not kill anymore.” 

“But I can’t stand his ridicule any longer.  He is defying our God, he must learn a lesson,” he shouted. 

“Let God teach him a lesson.  God can handle this simple problem,” one comforted. 

After some time of explaining and pleading he went back inside the church for the service to start.  During the prayer they requested that God would teach the drunkard a lesson.  They went home after the prayer meeting forgetting about the problem.

In the morning they were surprised to see a crowd at the house near the church.  They joined the crowd to investigate.  “What’s up?”  He asked one. 

Anggam (Uncle) is dead.”

“Who’s this uncle?” 

 They found out that it was the same person whom they wanted to teach a lesson the night before.

“Our God is alive!”  When they brought this story home to their village in Lapangon they all declared, “REALLY OUR GOD IS ALIVE.”

MAGAHAT

By: Selpha Velasco

Lapangon Mission School

November 2000

“Magahat” is a Manobo word for “ attack of headhunters”.  Lapangon, which belongs to the bloodthirsty tribe of Matiglangilan Manobos used to be the initiator of headhunting.  Its chief, Datu Malinas, who is now a baptized SDA, no longer initiates headhunting, but mediates peace talks between conflicting villages.

You may have read and heard of the precious Lapangon stories about the “bloody bolo baptized”, when the vice chief chopped a rapist to pieces right before the eyes of the student missionaries; and when that chopper Datu was baptized and had his bolo baptized with him too.  Today, that baptized bolo no longer chops but is only displayed in the chief‘s house as a loud, unspoken, message of peace after receiving the transforming love of God through the SULADS missionaries.

Sometimes, old conflicts, when not settled, take roots of hatred that affect innocent children who are asked to pay blood debt. One day, the villagers told us that there’s “MAGAHAT” coming to Lapangon.  We had heard of this thing during our SULADS orientation and seminar. We also heard about it from the folks in the village, but we had not met any of these MAGAHATS on the way and now they were coming to our village.  We are the first lady missionaries assigned here but we never have heard of the former missionaries that they were attacked by “magahats” in their time. And now “Lord, what shall we do?”

The village was in terror. The chief announced that nobody should be seen in the outskirts of the village.  Curfew was set.  We dismissed our classes at 3:30 PM.  The village warriors came to our cottage led by the chief.  “What shall we do, Ma’am?” the chief asked.  “We are already baptized and we don’t plan to kill anymore.  But here is the danger that is threatening the village.  We need to protect the village from MAGAHAT.  What do you suggest for us to do Ma’am?”

I was caught unaware by the question.  “Lord,” I whispered.  “Please help me! I need you.”

Then I asked the chief, “What do you do, Chief, whenever you encounter such a problem?”

“We used to whet our bolos, prepare our bows and arrows, secure our children in our homes with the mothers and guard our village in the night.”

“And what do you do whenever you spot the MAGAHAT group?” I continued.

“We strike, and whenever we get hold of them, we kill them.”

“Whenever you kill them, does that solve the problem?” I asked.

The chief paused for a while and after a deep thought, he said, “Yes and no.”

“What’s that,” I inquired. 

“It solves the problem of our village being threatened and saves the lives of our people but the MAGAHAT’S people would always find a way to retaliate.  This threat we have now was a problem we had sometime ago before the SULADS came.”

“Do you plan to kill them, Chief?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“Will that solve the problem?”  He was speechless. “Would you still plan to kill now that you are already baptized?”

 He still was speechless. After a long pause he said, “What do you suggest Ma’am?”

I said, “We have seen the miracles of our God in our village many times already. We have seen angels in form of bright lights in the night and strange visitors.  You have heard of many stories about the hand of God that is a ready help if only we call on Him in prayer. He promised that if we call His name in prayer He will help in whatever situation we are in. He will send His angels to keep watch over us in times of danger.”

 

The chief was just nodding in approval. “Then what do you suggest ma‘am?” he said.

“I suggest that you continue with what you have planned to guard the village with your weapons, of course, with you, but bear in mind that we should not kill.  Whatever we do in our strength and might we will never win them to Jesus whether we kill them or not.  Remember they are our brothers that we need to reach for Jesus. We SULADS missionaries are giving our lives in dangerous villages, such as this village when our first missionaries came, and we still plan to reach them, don’t you?  They kill because they don’t yet know the message of love about Jesus but if ever they come to know about it, just like you do now, they would not kill anymore. Don’t you think so?”

“Yes, I see,” the chief approved.

 “Let us just continue our morning and evening worships as usual and we’ll pray for angels to guard our village every night because we do not know when the MAGAHATS will come.”

 

And so it was that the chief, together with the warriors were roaming every night guarding the village. About six of them were deployed around our cottage.  Then it happened one night.

Every thing was quiet now, save the night sounds of the crickets and the snores of the guards asleep. When all of a sudden a cry, “MAGAHAAAAAAAAAAAT”, awakened everybody! The guards were awakened, the dogs howled, I lit a lamp, the children were crying and the warriors were shouting “GET HIM! GET HIM! GET HIM!”

“MA’AM BLOW OUT THAT LAMP! BLOW OUT THAT LAMP!” somebody shouted and my partner blew our lamp out.

We climbed up to the second deck of our bed and there we prayed.  “Dear Lord, the long heard of MAGAHAT is now in our village. Save us. Please don’t allow any bad thing to happen. Please send the MAGAHATS away.  In Jesus’ Name, Amen.”

We heard our neighbor in the next house shouting, “HE‘S HERE! HE‘S HERE!”

“GET HIM! GET HIM!” came the male voices, running to the scene.

 
“Lord, please intervene,” I prayed again.  We then heard a group of fast legs going in the direction of the stream.  The sound faded away into the night.  Then the warriors, children, mothers and everybody came to the cottage to check on us.

“How are you doing here, Ma’am?”

“We are alright.  You don’t need to worry about us.”

“Let’s have worship,” I suggested. “Let’s praise the Lord that he preserved our lives from the hands of the MAGAHAT. Let’s also praise Him that you were not able to kill.”  In a moment the village of Lapangon reverberated in songs of praise to God at that early hour of 3:00 in the morning.

The chief shook my hand and said, “Our GOD really is GREAT

Yes, “Our GOD really is GREAT!”  Please pray with us that the SULADS can reach out to more villages in the mountains.  Pray that more Datus or Chiefs will accept the message of Jesus and become peacemakers rather than MAGAHATS.

KIDNAPPERS

By Daryl Famisaran

Director of SULADS Student Missionary Program

Mountain View College

August 1999

 Mindanao is known for kidnap for ransom cases.  Cotabato, Cagayan de Oro, Iligan, and Marawi cities are often in the headlines.  Kidnap for slavery is another case, however.  Manobo tribes people that flood the streets during Christmas time begging are easy prey to these kidnappers.  For that reason, police and government officials are always on the alert for potential kidnapping cases.

The villagers of Lapangon Mission School decided that their old school building which was tilting off to one side and about to collapse needed to be replaced.  They wanted to build it bigger and of materials that would last and they would not have to rebuild the school each year.  They wanted to use real lumber sawn from native trees with a chain saw and galvanized iron sheets for the roof.  In order to do this, they would need to raise money for the fuel of the chain saw, pay the chain saw operator and by the galvanized iron sheets.

The adults decided to gather abacca fiber from which hemp rope is manufactured and sell it to by the GI sheets.  That would help but it would not be nearly enough to accomplish the total task.

The children decided that they also wanted to be involved in the replacement of their old tilting school building.  They could sing.  They could play the bancacaw or musical log.  They would use their talents to raise funds for their school.

One of the things they planned was a trip to Zamboanga to raise funds as one of their student missoinaries, Rendy Sebilo, lives there. The partner, Romel thought it was a good idea so they started off with nine pupils ranging in age from nine to twelve years.  They were happy as they waved good-bye to their parents but the parents were not so happy.  They wanted their children to go on this educational field trip to see the outside world but it was the first time to see their children leave them to venture out into the unknown world outside the mountains.  The parents imagined all kinds of dangers out there.  Would they ever see their children again?

Upon arriving in the bus terminal in Cagayan de Oro, all nine children lined up in single file as they are used to on the jungle trails to walk through the terminal.  The children were very curious about the sights and sounds they were experiencing.  People were running to and fro and dispatcher were shouting.  The children wrinkled their foreheads in disbelief at all the activity and all the people.  They stayed very close to their teacher as they walked through the terminal, each child clutching his or her own little bundle of precious possessions.  Most of the children were barefooted and many were dressed in rags as they dress in the mountains. 

In the midst of the rush of the terminal, this group caught the attention of the many travelers.  The behavior of the children seemed unnatural to the passengers and they watched with interest.  Even the police working the terminal seemed curious about this small group from the mountains.  At long last, their long awaited bus came to a halt in front of them.  Romel, in one word, instructed them to get inside the bus.

As Romel was giving instructions to the children on the do’s and don’ts of riding a bus, all the passengers were looking at him because he was speaking in a language they could not understand.  Romel was speaking in the Manobo dialect.  Suddenly, five policeman were face to face with Romel and Rendy.  “You are kidnappers!” the police accused.  The passengers were alarmed.  All eyes were now focused on Romel and Rendy.  The children were afraid.  The children were now seeing the reality of the most feared stories they hear in the mountain about the horrors of the cities. 

“We are not kidnappers,”  Romel pleaded.  “We are missionaries.”

“And what do you mean by these children?” the police questioned.

 “We are on a concert educational field trip.”  the boys replied.

“Better stop your lies,” the police roared.  “How would you ever convince these people in this bus that these children will sing a concert.  Look at the rags they are wearing.  Look at the bare feet!  Your ID please!”  The missionaries showed them their SULADS Identification card but the police were not convinced.  “So many kidnappers today profess to be missionaries with all their ID’s and they make money selling children into “white slavery” (prostitution). 

 

“Lord, please make this police officer understand,” Romel prayed silently.

 

The police ordered, “Let’s go to the police headquarters and there you can explain yourselves.”

“Do we really look like kidnappers?”  asked Romel.  These children are our pupils in the far mountains of Bukidnon in a DECS-recognized literacy center/mission school.  They will be singing religious songs to our brethren in our churches.”

 “One song for proof!”

A few words from Romel and the bus was filled with the blended voices of the nine children.  A religious Cebuan song was sung which the police officers heard for the first time.  The officers could understand every word of the song.  The song told of how sinful our world is now and how soon Jesus will come to take His people home.  Waiting passengers gathered around the bus to hear such strange music coming from such an unlikely looking group of children.  This was the first time something like this had happened in the terminal.  The police officers, so recently assertive now stood very still staring at the floor. 

 After the melody faded away, the head officer spoke with a voice choked with tears.  “It is enough,” he said.  “I’m sorry.”  Then turning to the children, he said, “I’m sorry for holding you so long.  You may go now.” 

Rendy and Romel breathed a silent prayer for the Holy Spirit who impressed them with what to say and impressed the police officers of the intentions and purposes of the group.  Pray for this little band of singers as they try to raise the funds necessary to rebuild their disintegrating school building.

To assist in this outreach work to the unreached people of Mindanao, send your free-will offerings to:

 

Adventist Mission Society of America

2411 S. Azusa Ave.

West Covina, CA 91792

Mark your gift as MVC SULADS and you will receive a tax-deductible receipt.  The SULADS student missionary program of Mountain View College wish to say “Thank You” in advance for your participation in this rewarding work.

JUST THE THREE OF US

As told to Dave Soreqo

Lapangon Mission School

April, 2000

The following day after we had sold our abaca and had witnessed the death of that man who God taught a lesson, we went to San Fernando town to buy some goods.  Four wheel vehicles in this out-of-the-way place are scarce because of the rugged dirt roads.

Motorbikes that unbelievably load 5 passengers or more are the public transportation in this area.  We three from Lapangon gathered ourselves in one corner of the road to pray before we took the motor bike.  “Lord, please send your angels to be with us in our travel,” we prayed.

 So the three of us positioned ourselves on the bike, our feet securely fixed on the foot rests, and held each other tightly as the bike jumped up and down the bumpy rugged road.  None of these motorbike rides for sure is comfortable.  And for us Manobos especially who are used to climbing up and down mountains are very uncomfortable on this unwelcome ride.  But we had no other choice but to take the ride to get to the far San Fernando town to buy some goods and get back again to Lapangon before dark.

When we reached the town, each of us gave his fare.  The driver seemed not satisfied and waited for more. 

“Why?” We asked.  “Is there any problem?” 

“Yes,” the driver said, “you have give enough for three people when there are four of you.” 

 We looked at each other and said, “There are just the three of us.” 

 

“No, the fourth one in white alighted first and went ahead.  Why? Did you not see him disappear in that curve” (he was pointing to a nearest curve on the road).  “He seemed to be in a hurry for something.  I know he is your companion.  There were four of you when we left.  I should have not brought you here when if there were just the three of you.  I never drive with only three passengers that far.”

Again, we explained that there were just the three of us.  Besides we were budgeting our money.  But the driver demanded that there were four of us.  He insisted that we pay for our fourth companion but we were firm that there were just the three of us.

The driver, glancing at our bolos, did not insist anymore for the fare of our fourth companion.  We realized later on that we asked in our prayer before our trip for the angels to travel with us, and God sent one. 

“Thank you, Lord,” they prayed again.

I WANT TO GO HOME

By Daryl Famisaran

July 2000

Lapangon Mission School

 

“Glory, why are you so sad?”  I looked down at her misty eyes as she looked up into mine and starting to cry, she snatched herself away and cried.  I patted her shoulders.  It’s enough.  I understand.  I comforted her.

Glory was such a lovely girl of ten years from Lapangon Mission School.  She has a ready sweet smile showing her two dimples.  She’s been with us in our home for three weeks now and she sings her heart out whenever she likes.  But whenever she remembers her problems and the ordeal she is in she would cry and long to go home.  As much as we are willing to let her go, we cannot.

 

“I miss my Papa.  I miss my Mama.  I miss my brothers and sisters.  I miss them all in the mission school,” she would sob.  But we dare not allow her to go because her parents, especially her father, would kill her.  You will be surprised, I’m sure, and ask why.  Well, here is her story.

Glory was the favorite of her Papa because she can easily learn new songs, memory verses, read, write, and many other things from the mission school.  The parents, seeing her progress in school, dreamed to let her study at Mountain View College when she grows big.

One day, a lowlander, about sixty years old, came to the village to help build a new school there.  He was interested in Glory because of her talents.  He proposed to the parents the she should come and stay in his home in town while she studied in a formal school.  The parents were happy because that was what they were dreaming of for Glory.  Glory, too, was happy, though sad that she would be missing her family, friends, and classmates.

 

In her new home, she was warmly received by the wife of the carpenter.  She got hew friends, the grandchildren of her foster parents.  The “Grammy”, as what she was told to call the wife of the old carpenter, bought her a new dress, notebook, and other schools needs as she prepared for real school.  Things seemed so well in this new home, but it was not.

She never knew that an evil plan was laid for her.  She, without the knowledge of the Grammy, was raped by the carpenter who threatened to kill her if she told anybody.  This situation continued for some time.  She could not do anything as she was in the custody of the rapist. 

She wanted to run away but her home was to far away.  If she were caught, worse things would happen.  This started her miserable life.  She prayed as she remembered the lessons from the mission school.  God answered her prayer.  She well knew that God would help her.  But another problem she faced was the culture of her family.  According to that culture, she was contaminated with the sin of her rapist.  She, too, must die or be cast out from her people. 

One day, Glory saw her teacher from the mission school who had come to town to purchase supplies.  She ran to the teacher and told her the whole sad ordeal.  Thus I learned of the problem.  Immediately, we took action and filed a case against the abuser.  The SULADS also appeased the villagers of Lapangon by providing as a peace offering, a carabao.  The villagers of Lapangon took the carabao and, using their long knives called bolos, chopped the carabao to death.  This was done to symbolize what they had wanted to do to the rapist.  Now they will not go out headhunting to kill whoever they can find.

Pray with us that these villagers will come to know the love of God in such a way that they will no longer take revenge into their own hands but will allow God to deal with this type of problem.

July 1, 1999
 
Drs. Jun & Ruby Tangonan,

God really is so wonderful.  When problems arise, on the right time you were there.  I know really God answered our prayers.  The student missionaries were so blessed for your being part of the SULADS family. May we join hands together  in finishing His work.  We want to share  this  good news from Lapangon Mission School.

FRESH NEWS FROM LAPANGON MISSION SCHOOL

We’ve been praying for Student missionary Romel Mansaloon to come during the 3 week seminar.  But he was not able to come because of tribal conflict.  Head hunters were on the strike again.  On the last day when new missionaries are preparing to leave he came and how happy we were to welcome him home because all 3 weeks he was one of the objects in prayer.

This was his story. 

“ MASS SLAUHTER AFTER MASS BAPTISM”

                During the March 1-6, 1999 All Mission Schools Jamboree, all 35 delegates from Lapangon were baptized. This was the first mass baptism from the village.  These delegates baptized were children in their teens.  When they arrived in the village from the jamboree, they requested their parents to butcher all their pigs and eat their last.  When their parents did it they had a feast but the new baptized children had chicken.  Today, pigs that roam in the villages at night are wild pigs.

             

                                                “CALENDAR AND THE NEW ORGANIZED CHURCH”

                 Romel organized the new church in Lapangon.  Officers are the newly baptized children.  Because they don’t have a printed calendar, they made a (carow) It is a locally made calendar made of tied rattan.  When setting a day for marriage or for any appointment, one rattan tied is equivalent to one day, and every day one should cut a rattan tied.  When there is only one rattan tied left, that’s the day of the appointment.  They made for each of them a “caraw” to determine the 7^th day from Sunday.
                During the week because there was no class yet, they scattered in the woods to gather abaca fiber to sell and buy notebooks and pencils. 

                Sabbath came and they were in the school which was used as a church on Sabbaths.  They noticed that the church elder was absent.  They were worried.  They cannot go on with the Sabbath School program with one of them breaking the Sabbath.  Someone said, he must have forgotten the day.  But they said how come he will forget when he has a caraw.  Thinking that something wrong must have happened to him, they went to search for him in the woods  together with Romel.  They found him combing, cleaning abaca he had gathered.  He was surprised why the search.  The children said.  We were worried about you why you’re not in church today.  This is Sabbath and here you are working.   Have you forgotten the day?  He looked at his caraw, there are two more left.  He said, I expect that tomorrow is the Sabbath.  They compared with their “caraws” and he found out that all except his have only one more left.  Then he realized that he skipped one day of cutting  one.  So, he went with them to attend church .  At A.Y. time he was given the opportunity to speak.  With tears and sobs he asked  for apology and forgiveness from Sir Romel and his “Manama”  God for breaking the Sabbath.

                Right now, the whole village are waiting for a minister  for their baptism.  Lapangon is 9-10 hours hike from the main road.

                                                                YOUNG MISSIONARIES

Sir Romel Mansaloon challenged them that we have a burden to tell others about Jesus when we have received  Him through baptism.  Just as we missionaries from MVC do here for you.  They promised to visit other villages and do outreach work in telling other people in nearby villages about Jesus.

 

                                “NO MORE HEAD HUNTING NO MORE TRIBAL CONFLICT”

                 The warring blood thirsty tribe of Matig Langilan have seen the village of Lapangon peaceful.  They were surprised that Datu Malinis (chief) of Lapangon no longer participate with them in their tribal war.  Instead Datu Malinis initiates the peace talks for them and advice them that when tribal conflicts continue it will just claim lives and would never solve a problem.

                He was questioned by the tribal chiefs.  “Why are you a happy fellow now when you used to lead us in tribal conflicts?  He said I have observed a peaceful life in my people from the very time MVC SULADS missionaries came to my village.  Our missionary teachers won’t let us participate in killing other people.  Peace will only come to us and make us free if  we use our arrows and spears for game and not for our enemies I have learned a principle of return good for evil and you’ll have a happy peaceful life.  Also, the head hunters notice that whenever they pass by Lapangon village they would hear children sing about love and about God.  Please give us teachers and we promise that if you can arrange for teachers for us, there will be no more tribal wars, no more headhunting.

                Brethren, there are five (5) villages waiting for missionaries. They too are candidates  for heaven.  With your love,  prayers and financial support,  SULADS  missionaries will continue on ‘till Jesus comes to reach the unreached tribal group.

                                 1999-2000  MISSION SCHOOLS & MISSIONARIES

BUKIDNON

 1.  Mahayag                                        Pearl Joy Villagracia & Cheche Balmocena

 2.  Lawatano                                       Dave Dalguntas & Samson Rosales
 3.  Dampaan                                       Melanio Quinquellera & Warren Gabutero
 4.  Malantaw                                       Letty Reyes & Jenny Morada
 5.  Sumpong                                        Rhoda Joy Villegas &  Rolly Grace Basagan
 6.  Lagdec 5                                         Salleh  Suli & Darren Castaño
 7.  Dapilo-an                                        Joubert Falcunitin & Leo Salde Oberio
 8.  Tibugawon                                     Carmenchita Barro &  Glenda Dublin
9.  Migtulod                                          Mr. & Mrs. Ruen Tumana  & Princes (baby)
10. Balangbangan                                 Mr. & Mrs. Melvin Garnado & Kidkid
11. Basak                                              Mr. & Mrs. Neil Tagarao
12. Lapangon                                        Romel Mansaloon & Rendy Sebilo
13. Cauhangan                                      Rolando Bernados & Fortunato Notarion
14.  Tacucon                                         Arnold Lucero & Ricky Serato
15.  Victory                                           Letecia Jampit & Marivic Damiles

MISAMIS ORIENTAL

16. Balingasag                                     Mr. & Mrs. Amable Llamera
17. Senagonia                                      Alejandro Cardente Jr. & Alberto Mampalawod

AGUSAN DEL SUR

18. Mahayon-hayon                             Allan Cano & Isael Villarante

SOUTH COTABATO

19. Antual 3                                          Arnie Roa & Roxelier Rosales
20. Slong                                               Levy Manzo & Jadji Singsing

TAWITAWI
21. Siasi                                                 Mr. & Mrs. Samuel Catada & RR
22. Sitangkay                                        Jose Nacis & Enrique Camos
23. Simonol                                          Chlowe Montalaba & Glenn Laraga

God bless you more.

 

With Christian Love,

Sha, Daryl , Campus & Current Missionaries

CHOPPED TO DEATH

By Romel Mansaloon

Lapangon Mission School

Lapangon Mission School villagers, the once most feared group of the Manobos for their being bloody warriors are now baptized SDA believers.  They now gather every morning and evening for village worship.  During the last baptism, the vice-chief had his bolo (machete) baptized with him symbolizing the end of using it for killing.  After the baptism, he gathered all the warriors with all their blood stained bolos for a picture.  After that, the bolos will be good only for display and no longer kill.

 

A church was built to hose the whole village for worship.  It was planned that it would be a two-story building.  The second floor would be two classrooms and the ground floor will house the church.  We started the project with a budget from the Thirteenth-Sabbath Offering for SULADS Jungle Chapels.  Our SULADS Director, Daryl Famisaran, hired an experienced carpenter to supervise the construction with the trust that he would be of help and shine as he was also known as an SDA member.

He indeed helped a little in the construction but caused much damage to the village people.  This approximately 60-year-old carpenter seemed to want to help and offered to send a 10 year old girl to formal school in San Fernando.

He arranged with the parents, gave them some gifts off food so that they would give the 10-year-old away.  He was successful and brought the girl with him to his home.  The carpenter’s wife was also happy to have a girl at home.  They arranged to enroll the girl to a nearby school.  The wife treated the gild as one of her grand children.  She bought school materials for her and was very happy with the girl.  The girl always wore a smile showing her dimples.  She was just a happy little tyke.  She sings beautifully and the neighbors gathered around to listen to her sing.  She was loved by the children of the neighborhood.

One day, however, they noticed that she was sad.  She was no longer the same smiling, singing little girl.  Nobody knew what ordeal she was going through.  The wife noticed that she wanted to go with her wherever she goes.  She did not want to be home while the wife went out.  “You should stay home,” the wife would scold her.  “I have to meet appointments and you need to stay home.”  So the girl had no choice but to stay home with the carpenter.  He beloved Lapangon home was too far away and she couldn’t go home alone.  School was to start in June but it was only April.

The girl’s life was getting worse everyday.  One day, she saw one of the lady student missionaries in town.  Clasping her hand, she started to cry.  She said, “Ma’am, I want to go home.  Please help me go home,” she cried.  “I need to go home.  I don’t want to stay with that old carpenter anymore.”

Something must be the matter.  Something must be wrong, the student missionary was certain.

And so it was that the girl pleaded with the carpenter’s wife to visit home because she missed her folks.  It was good that she consented and the carpenter accompanied her as the two of them went on that long eight-hour hike through the jungle.  I was surprised to see the girl home in the mission school.  Everybody noticed that she kept her distance from the carpenter.  She kept telling everybody that she would not return with the carpenter.  This seemed strange.  At first she was happy that she could get a formal education and she was the one urging her parents to send her with the old carpenter.  Now she was hiding so that she would not go back with him. 

 The time came when they were supposed to leave but we could not find the girl.  We searched the village but she was nowhere to be found.  The parents promised the carpenter that they would send her in time for the start of school.  The girl came out of hiding after the carpenter left.   

“Sir,” she started to cry.  I was sure there must be something very wrong.  Why would she behave like this?

 

“Tell me, Girl.  Tell me.  Don’t ever hid anything from me.”

 “I’m afraid, Sir,” she continued to sob.  “Please don’t tell my parents.  I’m afraid they will kill me.”

“Yes, I promise I won’t tell them.  Only tell me everything.  OK?”

 

“Sir.”  There were sobs and a long pause.  I waited.  “That beast old man carpenter raped me.”  She continued to sob.  My heart broke.  I joined her in tears.  This girl had been my very good pupil.  She is talented.  She had been dreaming of going to college and now she feels wretched.  Telling her parents would be bad because, according to their culture, she would be chopped to death by her parents because now she had been contaminated with sin from the lowland.  The rapist should also be chopped to death with her.

I was gritting my teeth.  I was angry.  I went to Mountain View College and told Sir Daryl, our Director of the SULADS, about it.  We had the girl examined and the medical examination revealed that indeed she had been penetrated and she was in very bad shape.  We filed the case and by now the judge should have issued the arrest warrant for him.  We will pursue the case to give due justice to the girl. 

Meanwhile, the people of Lapangon have sensed the big problem.  To the, justice is in their hands using their bolos.  It is well that I had escaped from Lapangon with her and she is now in the Director’s custody.  To the villagers, any lowlander including the SULADS student missionaries are their enemies until the problem is solved.  Innocent lowlanders who wonder into the forest are prey to these deploying bloody head-hunters and anytime the blood would flow again.  This would cause a big problem in the municipality.

The SULADS, who are always on their knees during smooth times, are now doubling their praying time during this most trying hour.  It was so timely that the missionaries were on the campus of MVC for a two week long seminar when the incident took place and there were safe.  We could not send the missionaries back because of this danger.  This would mean that five mission school in the area would have to be closed.

Providentially, the chief, together with four other warriors came to MVC to see our director to settle the matter.  He said, “You educated us with the light of truth.  You don’t kill but we used to do it.  Now my bolo was already baptized with me.  But this big problem urges us to kill again.  This would include you and your missionaries because you were the ones who sent that beast carpenter.  Now, I beg you, please don’t let it happen that we will kill again.”

“I’m sorry, Chief, for the mess,” our director pleaded. 

“My people especially the father of the girl are crying for the blood of the rapist.  We want him killed according to our tribal law.”

“I’ll take care of that,” Sir Daryl assured him.  “We will have him killed by our law to be processed in court.”

“Yes, that is good by my people are crying to kill him now or else many more will be included.”

 “What do you want me to do, Chief?” Sir Daryl asked.

“We need a peace offering.  Two pesos and one peso,” came the reply.  This meant Twenty thousand pesos and a carabao.  Although it was a large amount, it was small when we considered the lives of our missionaries.  Our director was able to arrange for a carabao peace offering only minus the Twenty thousand pesos.  They agreed for a carabao and a sack of rice.

The carabao was brought to the village, tided to a post, and the first one to strike the carabao with a bolo was the girl’s father.  They were in a rage.  Shouting with anger, each villager, with a bolo, shopped the poor innocent animal to death.   

“Maestro!” the chief shouted.  “Here is a bolo, you chop your share.”  So I made a chop at the carabao with the bolo.  Then the bolo was handed to my partner and he also chopped the carabao.  Even the children took their turns at chopping up the beast.  What a terrible sight! 

The chief said the carabao represented the rapist beast carpenter. 

The incident is not over yet.  The chief will come back to Sir Daryl to ensure that the beast rapist is captured and killed and if not there will be a bigger problem to solve.   

When I saw that carabao chopped up, I saw in my mind’s eye, the image of Jesus spilling His blood for me, for you, and for those Manobos in Lapangon.  Please continue to pray for us.

BLOODY BOLO BAPTIZED

by Daryl F. Famisaran

            In September 18, 1999, 81 were baptized in Lapangon Mission School.  This 3^rd batch baptism in the village and the largest group was led by the chief himself the most feared leader of the headhunters.  The vice chief came next to the water baptized.  He was known to be a notorious killer like the chief.  I was surprised to see that he has still his killer bolo on his waist as he waded to the water to be baptized.  I interrupted him and asked about the bolo.  He said, “As I will be baptized, my bolo should be baptized too.  So that as I rise from my watery grave of sin burying my past sinful life, my bolo too should be washed from the bloody sins.  The two of us will be washed and become new.  My bolo will no longer be used to kill but to be preserved to speak of how the word of God can change a stony heart like mine and a bloody weapon like my bolo.”

                Our student missionary Romel Mansaloon witnessed one day in front of the missionaries’ cottage a person guilty of adultery was chopped to death by the same person using that same bolo.  Romel cannot just hold back his tears of joy to realize how the holy spirit can work a miracle by changing these people’s lives. 

                Baptized also that day was an old lady who was the mother of that killer vice chief.  Coming up dripping from the water, she kissed one of the lady SULADS missionary and said.” Now, I can die safe in the arms of my Saviour.”

                After the baptism the SULADS missionaries assigned in that mission school gathered all the warriors baptized together with their killer bolos to pose for a souvenir picture with the SULADS missionaries.

                What a harvest! What a victory! Today the village is busy preparing to build their new chapel and school building.

A TEARFUL REUNION
By: Daryl F. Famisaran
August, 2000

If you can still remember the abused Manobo girl from Lapangon Mission and the Carabao that was chopped to death; this story is a continuation of a skipped lull of time.

This 10 yr. old Glory, because she was abused, although an innocent victim, is an outcast of the village.  According to Manobo culture because she was abused she is already contaminated with the sin of immorality.  To the Manobos, even mere mentioning of the genitals is taboo and immoral.  Much more despicable is an abused girl.  She is pronounced unclean, a shame and a disgrace to the community.  No other than the father should be the one to chop her to death.  Only then the name and honor of the family and the village be restored.

Would you, in your sound mind permit the innocent victim be chopped to death?  Because Glory knew of her doom when she would tell her father, she told her missionary teacher her painful ordeal.  The missionary teacher told me of the problem and I immediately took action.  I filed a rape case against the abuser and had the girl in my custody.

She lived with us in Mountain View College campus.  At first, she enjoyed our company, because we can talk and sing in Manobo, especially during worship.  We have also a Manobo girl with us who is a runaway bride.  Our home is the refuge to these less fortunate ones.

She is of a different kind because she comes from a more primitive culture.  As much as we want to please her with food she has not tasted yet, she would cry for “Kasilo”, sweet potato, her staple.  The soft bed is hot and uncomfortable for her.  She prefers the hard bamboo stick floor of our little hut in our backyard.  One day we bought a basketful of sweet potatoes.  She cooked and ate nothing else but sweet potatoes.  She kept all of them for herself.

One night I found her sobbing.  “What’s the matter, my girl”, I asked. 

“ I want to go home!  I want to go home!” she cried.

“NO! You know pretty well that your father will kill you if you go home.  I will be your papa here,” I comforted.

“No, I want to go home.  I miss my papa, I miss mama, my brothers, sisters and my people.”

My heart broke for her situation.  “Lord”, I prayed, “what shall I do with this girl?   Please soften the heart of her father and his people to accept her back.” 

 When the student missionaries came for the month’s reporting, she cried again when she saw her teacher.  “May I go with my teacher please!” she pleaded. 

“No!” I was firm.  “You pray, my girl, that Jesus will touch your papa’s, the chief’s and your people’s hearts to accept you back.  I will only let you go home when no other than the chief and your papa will come and fetch you.”  She understood! 

 With a choked voice she prayed in Manobo.  “Dear God, you know that it was not at all my fault for the terrible thing that happened to me.  I was just a victim.  Please touch the heart of my parents, our chief and my people to accept me back.  I want to go home.  In Jesus’ name, amen.”

Meanwhile, because we’re so busy we cannot hold classes for her at home, we sent her to the nearby Upper Balangbangan Mission School with a runaway bride, so that they can cope up with the lessons in preparation for the DECS placement test.

The missionary teachers reported to me that she enjoys and learns fast in their class, but she keeps on asking when could she go home.  It may be that in her personal prayers she kept on pleading to the Lord that her people especially her papa and the chief will accept her back.

Then, at an unexpected time, the chief came together with Glory’s papa, the chief’s wife, her younger brother and a sister-in-law.  I was surprised by this unexpected visit.  “Why chief?” I asked.

“We came to fetch our girl, Glory,” he stammered in a choked voice.  “We want her back!” the father butted in.  The ladies and the little boy were quiet.

“I will not let her go with you, if you will just kill her.  She is safe in my custody.  Anyway you have pronounced and considered her dead.  But if you promise to me that you have forgiven her and you would accept her back as your loved daughter, then I will give her back to you.” 

“Yes, Datu”, the chief gave me a tight and a tearful hug. 

 “And you?” I turned to the father,

 “Yes, I promise,” he hugged me tightly.

“Where is Glory?” they asked. 

“ She’s in Balangbangan Mission School.  I sent her there, so she can cope up with her lessons in class.  I’ll send for her.”  It was only a 30-minute motorbike ride.  In no time the bike was back with Glory. 

“ Papa!” she rushed and embraced her papa.  Her papa embraced her tight sobbing.  She embraced and kissed her little brother, the chief’s wife, her sister-in-law and finally the chief.  The chief lifted her to his lap and continued to embrace and kiss her.  Not a word was heard.  All of us in the house stood in tears watching that joyful reunion.  I learned that day that the chief was Glory’s grandfather.  We visited the Webbs that morning and a picture was taken of that tearful reunion.  Glory was wearing her sweet smile as she held her fathers hand and walked home that day.

Jesus has forgiven us of our immorality of sin.  We are no longer outcasts.  He is welcoming us home for that joyful reunion, in that happy home in heaven.

Friends, thank you so much for your support and including our student missionaries in your prayers.

WHO RANG THE BELL?

By Lowell Limbagan

Langilan Mission School

The bell is a very important thing in the Mission School.  Each Mission School has one.  It is used for calling the children to school, adults to meetings, and everybody for worship. The bell is placed at the teacher’s cottage because they have the control of time. The bell rang when it was time for worship, time for school and time for meetings. Worship is the most awaited time of all. At early dawn and at sunset the bell rings to call everybody to the village hall for worship.  In worship, children and adults alike enjoy the stories from picture rolls and from Uncle Arthur‘s Bible Stories.  They too share experiences of God’s goodness and leadings and recite memory verses.

Langilan is just a year old school and the villagers are still very dependent on the teachers to lead out and tell stories during worships.  The whole village hungers for the WORD and come to the worship hall wrapped with blankets to fight the biting cold each early morning.  It has been the practice in the village that folks who go to their work in the farm or hunt in the forest come to the teacher’s cottage to ask for a special prayer from us teachers.  They are still babies that need to be nursed every now and then by the WORD and helpless whenever the teachers are not around.

One day my partner and I needed to come down to MVC for reporting.  In morning worship before we left, we announced our purpose to the village people. “Chief, parents, and children,” I said. “We are going down to MVC for an important purpose. We will not stay long there. We will come home right away.” 

“Maestro!” the chief said. “I am afraid there will be no worship again until you come.”

“But can‘t you worship without us? I know you can,” I encouraged them.

 

“I’m afraid we can’t!” Nobody will lead us. Please don’t stay too long there, Maestro.  We will be missing you and the worship.”  We prayed with the people and we left. “Don’t forget to come back right away, Maestro,” they reminded.

After the reporting we went back right away as promised. The children met us on the way and took our heavy loads.  Then they started telling us excitedly about the things that happened while we were gone.

“The bell sir!” One boy started.

“What about the bell?” I asked.

“WHO RANG THE BELL?” 

 What do you mean? I don’t understand,” I said.

“While you were away, Sir, we all ran to the village worship hall when the bell rang for the morning worship. We thought you had arrived during the night and you rang the bell in the morning for worship. The children ran to the worship hall and the adults hurried.”

“We will hear fresh stories from our teachers again,” one commented. Everybody gathered waiting for the teachers to join the worship, but no teachers came.

 

 “Whatever happened to our teachers?  Why don’t they come for worship?” The chief checked our cottage, but there was no teacher.

“This is strange! This is strange!” the chief announced.  Everybody was silent.

“Who Rang The Bell?” the chief asked again. Again nobody spoke.  “Did you ring the bell?” he asked one boy.

“No I didn’t,” he said. 

 

“Sincerely now,” the chief asked again. “Who Rang The Bell?”

“NOT ME,” one said.

“NOT ME EITHER,” the other one answered.

“NOT ME, NOT ME, NOT ME!” Everybody’s answer was “NOT ME!”

“Then who could have rung the bell?” the chief wanted to know.  “Anyway we are gathered here now for worship. Let’s have worship.” All of a sudden everybody was singing--singing, singing, and singing.  Then each of the children recited their memory verses.  They sang again and prayed, and the worship was over.

 

“Who Rang The Bell?” I asked the boy.

“I don‘t know sir!” he said.” Who Rang The Bell, Sir?” He threw the question back to me.

I don’t know either. Up to now we have not solved yet the mystery, “Who rang the bell?”