[The Wide Shot] The Last Supper that matters
I glanced behind me and saw our videographer, Uly Pontanares, in tears as he kept recording.
Then I realized I myself was about to cry as well.
It was Monday, July 29, and Uly and I were covering a one-of-a-kind religious activity. That afternoon, seven children with cancer received their first holy communion at the Philippine General Hospital (PGH) Chapel. No less than Archbishop Socrates Villegas, one of the country’s most prominent prelates, gave them the Body of Christ for the first time.
The Mass was sponsored by a lawyer-couple, Jaypee and Colleen Calleja, whose son Ignacio was celebrating his third birthday on Wednesday, July 31, the feast of his namesake Saint Ignatius of Loyola.
After the Mass, Uly and I attended Ignacio’s birthday party in an outdoor space at PGH, after which we interviewed two of the seven children who received their first communion.
For these children, I realized, faith is not an abstract concept to be debated, say, on Facebook or X.
What does the Last Supper – which the Mass memorializes – mean to them? I cannot help but remember the social media debate on whether an Olympics tableau mocked the Last Supper. Valid points have been raised by both the tableau’s critics and defenders, but such quarrels prove meaningless in the face of problems of life and death.
Encountering real people, not clout chasing, gives us proper perspective.
One of the children we interviewed was Ianna Quiatchon, who turned 14 on July 22. She celebrated her birthday at the PGH cancer ward.
Ianna was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia, a rare form of cancer, only two months ago.
Her family wouldn’t have known about her sickness, had it not been for a bout with dengue in the first week of March. According to her mother Racquel Quiatchon, Ianna was confined for 15 days in the hospital due to dengue. But when she was about to be discharged, her doctor advised them to consult a specialist because the physician noticed her blood “didn’t look good.”
Ianna was eventually brought to PGH where she underwent medical tests, and was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia on April 16. Ianna was supposed to undergo five chemotherapy sessions, said Racquel, but her doctor advised them after two sessions that they would stop the chemotherapy because there was little improvement and her body would suffer in the process.
Ianna is now in the palliative stage of her treatment, her mother told us, crying.
The first communion that Ianna received last Monday “can help in her healing spiritually and physically,” Racquel said in Filipino.
“I hope I am healed,” said Ianna, who cried as she said this in front of our cameras. I was holding back my own tears.
After Ianna, Uly and I interviewed Jayshawn Aspiras, a 10-year-old boy who also received his first communion at PGH. He was diagnosed with brain cancer when he was eight years old.
Jayshawn had been through so much at such a young age. He had undergone chemotherapy, a brain operation, and a radiation therapy that took a toll on his body. His mother, Pearlane Flores, said Jayshawn didn’t wake up for one month after his brain operation.
That Jayshawn is now in the recovery stage, according to Pearlane, is already a miracle. Jayshawn is transitioning back to academics this school year.
I cannot forget Jayshawn’s answer when I asked: “Why is this first communion special for you?”
“So that I can shout my dreams,” he answered in the vernacular.
“What are your dreams, Jayshawn?”
The boy answered, matter-of-factly, “To be a fireman.”
Receiving the sacred host, in the eyes of Jayshawn, carries so much meaning – simple yet real.
(Watch our full video report below.)
The words of Ianna and Jayshawn reflect the belief of Catholics that the Eucharist – described in the Vatican document Lumen Gentium as “the source and summit of the Christian life” – is a source of healing for the sick.
In an article for the Dominican Healthcare Ministry, Father John Pollock wrote that the Eucharist “brings about spiritual healing by cleansing us from sin and restoring us in charity.” He said the healing power of the Eucharist is best seen when it is received as viaticum, a Latin word that means “provision for a journey,” by a person preparing for death on his or her sickbed.
“Many of those who are involved in health care know how this final healing of the soul can be a great consolation and source of hope. When prospects for bodily healing become futile, the healing of the spirit can be brought to completion in the Eucharist, the most holy Body and Blood of Christ, with whom we make the ultimate Passover journey from death to new life,” Pollock wrote.
The meaning of the Eucharist, for the children at PGH, goes beyond any social media debate like the latest Olympics controversy. Make no mistake about it: Defense of the faith is valid, but I hope we can put our bickerings in the context of the world’s greatest needs. Life does not revolve around our mobile screens.
May we all learn to use our energies, even our “defense” of the faith, for things that truly matter.
And may children like Ianna and Jayshawn receive the healing, both physical and spiritual, that they badly need.
Compassion for suffering, after all, is the one true homage to the Last Supper. – Rappler.com