A WHITE CHRISTMAS DREAM FADES ON TRUMP'S AMERICA

“Goodbye, America.”

“I hate it here.”

“I already have my tickets.”

These headlines – courtesy of The Guardian, Newsweek, and MarketWatch – capture the visceral reaction of many celebrities to Donald Trump’s return to power. From Taylor Swift’s soaring Spotify streams to Raven-Symone’s candid remarks about leaving the U.S., the collective sentiment seems clear: disillusionment.

My reaction was quieter, yet no less profound. I channeled my emotions into metaphor. The morning after the election, the following headlines greeted me as I opened my laptop:

“Trump Returns to Power” (NBC News)

“Trump’s America: Victory Changes Nation’s Sense of Itself” (The New York Times)

“Trump Just Ran the Most Racist Campaign in Modern History – And Won” (Huffpost)

Looking out the window of our Texas guest room, I wrote in my past ATABAY article about what I saw -- the vivid hues of late autumn -- amber and crimson, and a sky stretched endlessly blue. It should have felt beautiful. Instead, that beauty seemed muted and distant – like the weight pressing on my chest had dimmed the world itself.

For some, that weight was unbearable. Goddess of Pop Cher told The Guardian, “I almost got an ulcer the last time. If he gets in, who knows? This time I will leave.”

Actress Sharon Stone was just as direct, sharing with Daily Mail: “I am certainly considering a house in Italy. I think that’s an intelligent construct at this time. This is one of the first times in my life that I’ve actually seen anyone running for office on a platform of hate and oppression.”

Taylor Swift, meanwhile, found solace in her music: “I hate it here so I will go to a secret garden in my mind.” For celebrities considering life abroad, those “secret gardens” have real-life coordinates: Italy, Canada, the U.K.

I, too, have a “secret garden in my mind,” one I escape to during fiery arguments with my wife – a theme I explored in my ATABAY article Till Death or Divorce? Unraveling The Marriage Conundrum.

In the heat of an argument, words become weapons. We’ve all been there – adrenaline surges, voices rise, and then, the ultimate weapon unleashed. After over four decades of marriage, my ultimate weapon was this: “Maybe we need a breather. I’ll go home to the province to take a LONG break” -- a secret garden in my mind – that I always keep in reserve.

Unlike Sharon Stone or Whoopi Goldberg, who said, “Maybe it’s time for me to move. I can afford to go,” my “secret garden” today, isn’t about physical relocation. But Trump’s victory awakened a similar yearning – to escape, to retreat to something safe and familiar.

As a Filipino visitor in the U.S., I hold deep ties to this land of the brave and home of the free. American education, often criticized as a colonial tool, shaped who I am today.  It sharpened my thinking, broadened my perspective, and, for my family, was a lifeline out of poverty.

My wife and I came here hoping to fulfill a dream: to experience our first White Christmas, the kind we only sing about in the Philippines:

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas,

Just like the ones I used to know.

Where the tree tops glisten,

And children listen

To hear sleigh bells in the snow.

But when Trump won, that dream felt hollow. Each falling leaf outside my window became a quiet farewell, an echo of loss. The vibrant landscape seemed to mourn alongside me, shedding its colors and retreating into bare, indifferent stillness.

Homesickness crept in, like a shadow slipping under the door, quiet but insistent. It wasn’t just a longing for the familiar – a pull toward something deeper, a sense of belonging that had suddenly unraveled in the wake of the election.

The idea of staying for our first White Christmas, once so magical, now felt hollow. My heart ached for the comforting sounds of home: the gentle rustle of coconut leaves swaying in the breeze, the laughter of neighbors chatting over the fence, and the unmistakable scent of freshly cooked adobo wafting through the air.

Desperation nudged me to email our travel agent: Request reschedule of our trip Dallas-Istanbul-Manila. I knew it would cost us dearly -- especially during the holiday season – but at that moment, the price seemed like a small offering to reclaim a sense of normalcy. When my wife came up with the estimated sky-high cost, my resolve faltered. Reality hit like a cold water splashing against my face.

I stared at the figures for a long time, biting my lip. Unlike Whoopi Goldberg, I couldn’t simply say, “I can afford to go.” Instead, I found comfort in our gracious host Ed’s words: “I am not sure if the agency can fix your scheduled travels, but if not, then you both are welcome to spend Christmas with us.”

By God’s grace, we decided to stay, accepting our gracious host’s offered warmth and kindness, filling the gaps left by disillusionment with an unexpected sense of belonging. Yet, the ache in my heart lingered, not for the snow I had once dreamed of catching in my hand, but for the intangible sense of hope that had momentarily slipped away in the wake of the recent election.

It wasn’t just about politics or policies; it was about the soul of a nation, the ideals it promised, and the grim reality it now wrestled with. As my wife and I walked on the quiet street and looked at the houses adorned with holiday lights, there was a peculiar juxtaposition of beauty and loss – like a carol sung in a minor key. 

America, a land that had once shaped my education, my worldview, and even my identity as a Filipino, now felt like a distant acquaintance rather than the vibrant friend I once knew.

Perhaps, that’s why Philip Pullman’s words echoed so deeply: Goodbye, America. It was nice knowing you. The farewell wasn’t just to a place but to a version of it that had existed in my heart and mind – a land of unbridled opportunities, boundless dreams, and resilience that once inspired the world.

Content & editing put together in collaboration with ChatGPT

Head photo courtesy of Adobe Stock

Still photos courtesy of Variety, Shutterstock, Getty Images, Dreamstime, & Bri Schneiter

KAMALA HARRIS AND THE U.S. 2024 ELECTION: WHAT WENT WRONG?

“The debate over why Harris lost the election is in full swing,” reads a Vox banner. “Was she a weak candidate? Was it Joe Biden‘s fault? Did Trump have unexpected strength? Or was it a global trend?”

“The Harris campaign was always running uphill,” remarked William A. Galston, author and political advisor. “She served as vice president to a president whose approval rating plunged in the middle of his first year in office and never recovered.”

Galston added, “Harris’s theory of the case was flawed.” She placed reproductive rights at the core of her platform, banking on it to mobilize an army of passionate women voters who would turn out in unprecedented numbers. This wave never materialized.

“Harris’s tactical choices made her problems worse,” Galston concluded. As one example, he cited her reluctance to differentiate herself from Biden in a way that would attract persuadable voters.

Success, as the saying goes, has many fathers, while failure is an orphan. Had Harris triumphed, the chorus of critics would have transformed into admirers, each eager to credit her resilience, strategy, and vision. Suddenly, the traits scrutinized in her defeat would be celebrated as strokes of political genius.

Imagine had Harris won.

I can’t help but visualize the headlines and analyses that would have dominated the front pages.

Harris Shatters Expectations in Historic Election Victory

Kamala Harris, the first woman and person of Black and South Asian descent to win the U.S. presidency, has defied the odds and rewritten the playbook for American politics. Her victory represents a transformative shift, challenging long-held beliefs about electability, voter priorities, and the future of the Democratic Party.

A Political Style that Struck a Chord

Harris’ team shaped a political style that resonated with a diverse coalition of Americans seeking a fresh approach. Her campaign emphasized unifying issues beyond traditional partisan divides: economic stability, community safety, and environmental resilience. With a blend of empathy and resolve, Harris engaged voters by proposing pragmatic solutions infused with a vision for meaningful reform. Her rhetoric focused less on catchy soundbites and more on a holistic message that bridges divides.

The Strength of Caution

Harris’ thoughtful, steady approach appealed to an electorate fatigued by extremes. Her careful, deliberate messaging allowed her to sidestep pitfalls, keeping the conversation focused on policy. By avoiding unnecessary controversies and maintaining a disciplined approach, Harris won the support of moderate Republicans, independents, and new voters looking for a stable leader.

Owning Her Record – and Her Identity

Rather than distancing herself from her past, Harris embraced it, using her experience as a prosecutor to demonstrate her ability to make tough decisions. Her moderate stance on key issues enabled her to connect with a broad spectrum of the electorate without alienating progressives. Harris portrayed her experience as an asset for navigating complex political landscapes.

The Center Holds: A Winning Strategy

Harris’s choice to embrace a centrist approach proved pivotal. Her loyalty to Biden reassured voters who valued continuity. This balanced navigation between progressive ideas and centrist policies unified the Democratic base, allowing her to gain the support of independents without fracturing her coalition.

Turning Adversity into Strengths

Harris encountered resistance rooted in gender and race, yet she transformed these obstacles into sources of strength. Negative portrayals -- depicting her as unserious or frivolous – only served to galvanize her supporters. Voters saw through these attacks, rallying around her as a symbol of resilience and progress. Harris’s poise in the face of such criticism highlighted her commitment to representing all Americans.

In her victory, Kamala Harris has not only broken barriers but also demonstrated that the United States is ready for a different kind of leadership – one characterized by grace under pressure, a steady hand, and an inclusive vision for the future. Her success suggests that American voters are moving beyond outdated biases, embracing leaders who embody the diversity and resilience of the nation itself.

Sadly, Harris did not win. So why did she lose?

Amid the flood of theories attempting to explain her defeat, one perspective from Nobel Peace Prize laureate Maria Ressa stands out, offering a rarely considered angle in the discourse of political pundits. 

“As people went to vote this year [in the U.S. election, they were exposed to fewer] facts, more division, more fear, anger, and hate,” Ressa observed. In the Philippines, the target then was the drug addicts; in Trump’s campaign, it was the immigrants.

“In a weird way, the Philippines went to hell earlier than the rest of the world. And from hell, we’re now in purgatory, while the West is just [entering its version of] hell, so we’re a little bit ahead of the curve,” Ressa added, reflecting on the Philippines’ 2016 presidential election that brought Rodrigo Roa Duterte to power. Often called the Trump of Asia, Duterte exploited the basic human needs – survival and safety -- two foundational tiers in Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs -- of a massive segment of poor Filipinos.

Ressa once interviewed Cambridge Analytica (CA) whistleblower Christopher Wylie, who revealed that the Philippines was an ideal testing ground for CA’s tactics. Wylie explained:

“A lot of times when CA was looking to experiment with techniques, experiment with AI -- whether it was manipulating voter opinion or disseminating propaganda -- it created an ideal Petri dish situation in the Philippines… If it does work, then you can figure out how [it could then be adapted for use] in other countries [like the U.S.]."

Did CA play a role in Duterte’s victory? Six months before the 2016 U.S. Presidential election, CA appeared to have a hand in the Philippine presidential race. The South China Morning Post reported that CA’s involvement likely contributed to Duterte’s win.

Upon receiving the 2019 Shorenstein Journalism Award at Stanford University, Ressa warned: “If you can make people believe lies are the facts, then you can control them.”  All the more with Elon Musk's X (formerly Twitter). She stressed the four-step formula used by modern authoritarians.

1) Lie all the time,

2) Accuse opponents and journalists of lying,

3) Sow confusion about what’s true, and

4) Make resistance seem futile.

Ressa asserts that without facts, there can be no civic engagement. A lie told a million times replaces the truth.

Two defense experts and authors of the book Like War: The Weaponization of Social Media expand on Ressa’s insights, noting:

“It’s not just a battle over your point of view but a battle over reality itself… This technology came out of nowhere. Twenty years ago, none of these platforms existed. It has transformed the way we conduct our politics.”

Doesn’t this scenario mirror what unfolded in the recent 2024 U.S. election?

Content and editing put together in collaboration with ChatGPT

Head photo courtesy of Mandel Ngan/AFP/Getty Images

Still photos courtesy of Library of Congress, Getty Images, Fulbright, & istockphotos

TRUMP AND EVANGELICALS: A WIN-LOSS DISCERNMENT IN FAITH AND POLITICS

 

In the high-stakes world of American politics, few alliances are as surprising – and controversial – as the bond between Evangelicals and Donald Trump. How did a group known for its commitment to faith, family values, and integrity rally behind a figure with a history of legal troubles and a reputation that doesn’t exactly scream Sunday school teacher? What does this support mean for Evangelicals’ credibility and mission to share their faith?

In this exclusive, candid Q&A session on EcclesiasTik Talk, I sit down with theology scholar, Mr. AI, to unpack the wins, losses, and moral dilemmas that Evangelicals face in a post-Trump America. Buckle up – this is one talk you don’t want to miss.

ME: Welcome to our live TV show, EcclesiasTik Talk. I’m thrilled to have a special guest – a theology scholar, to untangle the knotty issues surrounding Trump’s victory and its implications for the Evangelicals who supported him. Please help me welcome Mr. AI!

MR. AI: Thank you for having me. I’m excited to dive into one of the most talked-about topics today. Let’s see if we can shed some light on these complex questions.

ME: Great! So, let’s jump right in. First question, Mr. AI – why did so many Evangelicals back Trump in the first place, given his, well, colorful background?

MR. AI: Excellent question! Evangelicals supported Trump largely because of his policies rather than his personal life. They saw him as a defender of religious freedom, someone who stood up for pro-life policies, and who promised to appoint conservative judges – especially to the Supreme Court.

Those policy stances are extremely important to Evangelicals, so they were willing to overlook some of Trump’s flaws because they felt he would advance their core values.

ME: But aren’t there obvious character issues that could make supporting him a bit of a moral tightrope for Evangelicals?

MR. AI: You’re right! Trump’s conduct – his harsh language, accusations of misconduct, and even his reluctance to apologize – did raise concerns for many Christians. For a faith community that values kindness, humility, and honesty, it’s tough to align with a leader whose behavior doesn’t always match those ideals.

But for many Evangelicals, it came down to a lesser of two evils choice. They believed his policy actions were worth the compromise, even if it meant holding their nose when it came to his personal life.

ME: Alright, but now, let’s throw in Trump’s legal issues, including felony convictions. That’s serious stuff! How can Evangelicals still support him despite all that?

MR. AI: Ah, the big question! Many Evangelicals see Trump’s legal issues through a different lens. They believe these charges are part of a broader political effort to silence him and, by extension, the Christian values he claims to stand for.

There’s a lot of skepticism among Evangelicals toward mainstream media and government institutions, which some feel are biased against them. So, rather than seeing Trump’s legal troubles as disqualifying, they view them as a badge of honor in a fight against a system they feel is increasingly hostile to their beliefs.

ME: But isn’t that a risky stance to take, given that Jesus taught his followers to live with integrity? How do they balance that with Trump’s controversies?

MR AI: Absolutely, it is a balancing act. Many Evangelicals justify their choice by pointing to biblical figures like King David or the Apostle Paul, who had their moral failings yet were still used by God.

They see Trump as a flawed vessel for a greater purpose. They’re willing to support him because they believe he’s advancing values they hold dear – even if he doesn’t always live up to them personally.

ME: Alright, but let’s dig deeper here. In the Bible, there’s that powerful verse, Matthew 16:26: “For what profit is it to a man if he gains the whole world and loses his own soul?” Couldn’t this verse serve as a warning to Evangelicals who support Trump?

MR. AI: That’s an insightful point! This verse absolutely can serve as a warning. It challenges Christians to consider what they’re willing to sacrifice for worldly gains, like political influence. The question it raises: Are Evangelicals compromising their moral integrity for short-term wins? By supporting a figure whose life may contradict Christian values, they risk damaging their witness to others and losing credibility in their mission to share the Gospel.

ME: So, are you saying that supporting Trump could hurt Evangelicals’ efforts to spread the faith?

MR. AI: Yes, it’s possible. One of the core principles of Evangelicalism is activism – sharing the faith with others. But if people see Evangelicals supporting a leader with serious character issues, it could make them question the sincerity of the faith itself. For some, it might look hypocritical.

When you say one thing about moral standards and then seem to support someone who doesn’t meet those standards, it can weaken your credibility. So yes, it’s a risk to their evangelistic efforts.

ME: I see. It’s almost like they’re risking their reputation to gain influence. So, what would you say Evangelicals need to think about moving forward?

MR. AI: Evangelicals need to think carefully about the long-term impact of their choices. Gaining influence is valuable, but if it leads people to question the authenticity of their faith, then they might be trading something eternal for something temporary. The challenge is finding ways to stay true to their values without compromising on character, even in the messy world of politics.

ME: Well said, Mr. AI. So, to sum up, Trump’s victory might be a win in terms of policy, but it could also be a loss in terms of moral integrity. Quite a paradox, isn’t it?

MR. AI: It is! It’s a classic example of a double-edged sword. On one side, you have the political gains and influence; on the other, you have the potential moral and spiritual costs.

Evangelicals are left in a very challenging position, where they have to ask, “What do we value most?” That’s a question only they can answer.

ME: Thank you, Mr. AI. This has been such a thought-provoking conversation! You’ve certainly given us all a lot to think about. We appreciate your insights and your honesty.

MR. AI: Thank you! It was a pleasure being here, and I hope this conversation can encourage everyone, Evangelicals or not, to reflect on what truly matters.

ME: And that wraps up today’s episode of EcclesiasTik Talk. Thanks for tuning in, everyone. Keep questioning, keep learning, and remember – faith is a journey. See you next time!

Content & editing put together in collaboration with ChatGPT

Head photo courtesy of getty image

Still photos courtesy of Pixabay, AP News, & Inc. Magazine

OUTSIDER'S PERSPECTIVE: REFLECTING ON TRUMP'S NEW AMERICA

 

TRUMP RETURNS TO POWER – NBC News

TRUMP’S AMERICA: Victory Changes Nation’s Sense of Itself – The New York Times

Trump Just Ran The Most Racist Campaign In Modern History -- And Won – Huffpost

These headlines greeted me as I opened my laptop this morning. I looked out the window of the guest room in our Texas home, where the vibrant colors of late fall filled the view. The trees stood cloaked in amber and crimson, and the sky stretched blue and infinite above them. The scene should have felt beautiful.

But today, that beauty seemed distant, muted, as if the world had dimmed to match the weight pressing on my chest.

Bedroom Window View

The trees outside stand as silent witnesses, their leaves drifting slowly to the ground, one by one. In the past, I might have admired the graceful descent, and seen it as nature’s way of letting go. But now, each falling leaf feels like a quiet farewell, an echo of loss. The landscape is shedding its colors, retreating into a bare, indifferent stillness, as if the world, too, mourns something precious slipping away.

The houses, nestled calmly among the trees, no longer offer warmth or comfort. They seem cold and distant, like strangers, cloaked in shadows cast by the low, reluctant light of a November sun. The golden canopy, once so alive and welcoming, now feels somber, as if nature itself senses the heaviness I carry.

The sky remains blue, but today it looks vast and empty. Sunlight filters weakly through the branches, casting long, reaching shadows across the ground. Even the light itself feels hollow., unable to warm and soothe. I search for the solace this view used to bring, but it eludes me, replaced by a quiet, aching awareness of endings – of seasons, cherished ideals, and the life that once felt stable and sure.

This landscape has become a mirror, reflecting not just the end of fall but something deeper -- a quiet surrender to what cannot be changed. As I look out, I feel connected to and separate from this world, a silent observer in a place that moved on without me. The beauty remains, but my heart is not ready to see it anymore.

As a Filipino visiting the U.S., though a literal outsider, I am deeply connected to this country for it shaped much of who I am today. American education provided me with more than knowledge, it sharpened my thinking, honed my judgment, and prepared me for a mature life. Despite criticism that education was a colonial tool, it has been one of America’s most enduring contributions to the Philippines. For countless poor Filipino families, like my own, education was the only passport out of poverty.

One invaluable by-product of this education is the English language. During a recent trip abroad with my wife, I wrote in my travelogue:

“I recalled one instance in Belgium. We were having lunch in one restaurant when I overheard someone in a group at another table muttering, ’They speak English.' It’s a feather in our cap that we ought to treasure, nurture, and build up.”

Jacob Mikanowski of the Guardian captured the dominance of English eloquently:

“English is everywhere, and everywhere, English dominates… It is an official language in at least 59 countries… It is aspirational: the golden ticket to the worlds of education and international commerce, a parent’s dream and a student’s misery, the winnower of the haves from the have-nots. It is inescapable: the language of global business, the internet, science, diplomacy, stellar navigation, and avian pathology."

“China currently has more speakers of English as a second language than any other country. Some prominent English teachers have become celebrities, conducting mass lessons in stadiums seating thousands. In South Korea, English is a ‘national religion.’"

In my American educational journey, a book, A Passion For Excellence by Tom Peters, caught my attention, particularly a chapter called A Blinding Flash of the Obvious. It refers to insights that once thought of, seem obvious, yet are often overlooked.

Here’s a striking example. Imagine choosing between a school teacher and a businessman as the next U.S. president. The teacher’s qualifications are well understood; everyone has had a teacher. The businessman, however, is a convicted felon. Who would you choose?

The answer should be obvious. If one chooses the businessman, he or she demonstrates the essence of a blinding flash of the obvious – a tendency to turn a blind eye to the self-evident. Notably, this is any typical teacher, not even the incumbent Vice President.

Reflecting on real-life choices in the recent U.S. election, I’m reminded of the words of Martin Luther King Jr.:

“The ultimate measure of a man is … where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.” 

Let’s consider how the two leaders faced their loss. Kamala Harris, after the election results were clear, stated:

“We must accept the results of this election. Earlier today, I spoke with President-elect Trump and congratulated him on his victory. I also told him that we will help him and his team with their transition and that we will engage in a peaceful transfer of power.

“A fundamental principle of American democracy is that when we lose an election, we accept the results. That principle, as much as any other, distinguishes democracy from monarchy or tyranny. And anyone who seeks the public trust must honor it. At the same time, in our nation, we owe loyalty not to a president or a party, but to the Constitution of the United States, and loyalty to our conscience and to our God.”

In contrast, Donald Trump’s refusal to accept his 2020 loss to Joe Biden culminated in a deadly riot. On January 6, 2021, swarms of his supporters stormed the U.S. Capitol, derailing congressional session to confirm Biden’s win.

To conclude, a comment from a Huffpost reader, Daniel Bundy, captures a sentiment shared by many:

“I am sure of one thing: people who thought we needed this change, that Republican could run this country better, well, they will have a front row seat. They will know the repercussions of their decision. For the rest of us, save your money, reduce spending, buy a bunch of popcorn & watch the regret. Oh, it will come, & remember just four years.”

Would Americans have their own nabudol moments?

Content & editing put together in collaboration with ChatGPT

Head photo courtesy of The Washington Post

Still Photos courtesy of NBC News, Rolling Stone, Institute for New Economic Thinking, Unsplash, & freepik

ONE LITTLE ROSE: WHY WE SHOULD CELEBRATE LIFE BEFORE IT'S GONE

 

Who could forget that classic song by the APO Hiking Society?

Nakasimangot ka na lang palagi

Parang ikaw lang ang nagmamay-ari

Ng lahat ng sama ng loob

Pagmumukha mo ay hindi maipinta

Nakalimutan mo na bang tumawa

Sumasayad na ang nguso mo sa lupa

It’s a perfect example of kantiyaw, that lighthearted teasing we, Pinoys, often share among close friends or barkada, perfectly captured in the song Awit ng Barkada. This gentle ribbing, this humor tinged with fondness, is part of our culture, even greeting a friend after a long night out: “O, buhay ka pa?” or “Anyari? Para kang namatayan.”

But this humor takes on a different flavor when we remember that November is a season of reflection, marked by All Souls’ Day – the Day of the Dead or the Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed. This tradition, honored across Roman Catholicism, Eastern Orthodoxy, Anglicanism, Lutheranism, Methodism, and more, serves as a solemn reminder to pray for and remember those who have gone before us.

A Tale of Two Deaths

Speaking of the dead, I once had an unusual brush with “death.” Or should I say, “deaths”? The first was the kind many Christians know as being “spiritually dead,” as described in Ephesians 2:1: “In the past, you were spiritually dead because of your disobedience and sins.” It was only when I was “born again,” as Jesus explains in John 3:3: “Unless you are born again, you can never get into the Kingdom of God” – that I found new life in faith. I shared this conversion story in the January 3, 2022, ATABAY article, The Old Has Passed Away, The New Has Come.

But the second experience was quite different – an experience I’ve only read about before or dismissed as impossible. My perspective changed after listening to Lee Patrick Strobel, a former atheist-turned-Christian author and investigative journalist, who shared his insights on near-death experiences (NDEs) in Preston Baptist Church. In his book The Case for Heaven, Strobel presents compelling accounts suggesting that death is not the end but rather a transition.

Strobel’s research surprised me. He explained in a YouTube interview how over 900 scholarly articles have been written on NDEs, with documented cases of people experiencing things during “death” that defy logical explanation. One case involved a woman named Maria. Strobel narrated:

“And so, there’s this famous case of Maria who dies in the hospital of a heart attack. Conscious the whole time, she said, ‘My spirit detached from my body (which is what the Bible talks about), I watched the resuscitation efforts on my body, THEN MY SPIRIT FLOATED OUT of the hospital, up and out of the hospital.’ (Underscoring mine)

“And when she was revived, she said, ‘Oh, by the way, there’s a man's shoe on the roof of the hospital. It’s left-footed, it’s dark blue. There’s some wear over the little toe, and the shoelace is tucked under the heel.’ And they go up in the roof of the hospital and they find it – just as she had described it."

Another case Strobel shared was about Vicky Umapag, a woman blind since birth. “And yet,” he recounted, “during her near-death experience, she could see for the first time – she saw people trying to revived her body, she saw plants, she saw birds. And then, when she was revived, her blindness returned, and her eyesight disappeared. As one medical researcher said, ‘This is impossible’.”

Remembering My “Floating” Experience

Listening to Strobel, I was transported back to a peculiar moment from my childhood, when I was barely old enough to remember. I had a high fever, likely typhoid, and as my parents cared for me, I recall something strange: I was floating above them, watching them from a distance. That’s all I remember, but that eerie sensation has stayed with me all these years – a moment that aligns with the near-death experience Strobel shared.

As we reflect on the mystery of what lies beyond, the possibility of an afterlife reminds us to cherish the present life with even greater appreciation. Life, fragile and fleeing, is a precious gift – one that calls us to make each moment count.

Life's a canvas where we paint memories with those we love, a journey where kindness, laughter, and joy are the brushstrokes that add color and meaning. Yet too often, we allow our most heartfelt expressions to go unsaid, reserving words of gratitude and love for a time that may never come. If death teaches us anything, it’s the importance of seizing the present to honor and cherish one another.

In that spirit, we turn to some reflection that captures the simple yet profound desire to be remembered and appreciated while we’re still here, rather than only in memory.

Reflections on Life and Legacy

In one of his sermons, Fr. Jerry Orbos, SVD, gave this wisdom:

“We all will die. Life is short. Death is certain. Do not postpone your conversion. Now na. Tell the Lord, ‘Mahal ko po kayo. Patawad po. As for me and my household, we will serve you, Lord.’ Do not postpone your loving. Don’t let it be said that you loved too little, too late.’”

And to all of us who hold loved ones dear, Fr. Orbos shared a poem that I feel resonates deeply especially during this season:

One Little Rose

I would rather have one little rose

From the garden of a friend

Than to have the choicest flowers

When my stay on earth must end.

I would rather have one pleasant word

In kindness said to me

Than flattery when my heart is still

And life has ceased to be.

I would rather have a loving smile

From friends I know are true

Than tears shed round my casket

When this world I’ve bid adieu.

Bring me all your flowers today

Whether pink, or white, or red

I’d rather have one blossom now

Than a basketful when I’m dead.

In the spirit of All Souls’ Day, let us remember those who have gone before us, and cherish the time we have with those still here. May we live fully, love deeply, and leave behind a legacy that will be remembered warmly – not only in death but in life.

Content and editing put together in collaboration with ChatGPT

Head photo courtesy of Peter Steiner

Still photos courtesy of jplenio, painted lady, X.com, StockSnap.io, & Pixabay

WHY DEMOCRACY DIES IN DARKNESS: A WARNING FROM AMERICA'S LITTLE BROTHER

 

“If we don’t hold them accountable, who will?”

Ben Bradlee (played by Tom Hanks in the 2017 film The Post), the fearless editor of The Washington Post, raises this question in the dimly lit conference room of the newspaper’s headquarters.

Shadows flicker against the stern faces of the executives, editors, and legal advisors gathered for a momentous decision -- one that will define their careers and could strip them of their freedom.

“The only way to assert the right to publish is to publish.”

Katharine Graham (played by Meryl Streep) responds, her unwavering resolve masked by a composed exterior. Once an unlikely publisher, thrust into her role by tragedy, she now stands at the eye of a storm. Her greatest test lies before her: the choice to publish the explosive Pentagon Papers.

“You could go to prison; you could lose the paper. You could lose everything.”

Arthur Parsons (played by Bradley Whitford) warns. Around them, board members and lawyers urge restraint, their voices layered with caution and fear of the inevitable backlash.

In the larger context, the Nixon administration looms ominously, its shadow extending over the press. This is no mere battle for survival – it is a confrontation with history itself.

“This is no longer my father’s company, it’s no longer my husband’s company. It’s mine. And anyone who thinks otherwise probably doesn’t belong on my board.”

Graham declares, marking her transformation from a reluctant leader to a resolute publisher who stands firm on her principles.

“We’ve got to make this decision ourselves, Katharine. 

Bradlee stresses.

“I’m not asking for your permission, Ben. I’m asking for your advice.” 

Graham replies.

The gravity of their choice saturates the air, as Graham, strengthened by Bradlee’s words, rises to meet the demands of journalistic duty. In her silence, the room holds its breath; with her resolve, the future of the free press hangs in the balance.

“The press was to serve the governed, not the governor.”

Bradlee’s words, quoting Supreme Court Justice Hugo Black, crystallize the First Amendment’s purpose and the moral imperative driving them forward.

The scene builds to Graham’s decisive moment, where she signals the go-ahead to publish -- a triumph for press freedom, underscored by her personal growth as she assumes her role as a true leader in media.

That was over fifty years ago. Today, The Washington Post, with its tagline Democracy Dies in Darkness seems unrecognizable compared to Graham’s heyday.

As I write this, three members of its editorial board have resigned and more than 250,000 readers have canceled their subscriptions. The issue? The Post will not endorse a presidential candidate in this year’s election. The editorial board had reportedly drafted an endorsement of Vice President Kamala Harris before billionaire publisher Jeff Bezos dismissed it.

“[The non-endorsement] is an effort by Jeff Bezos to curry favor with Donald Trump in anticipation of his possible victory,” says Robert Kagan, a columnist and opinion editor-at-large who had been with the paper for 25 years -- publicly resigned as a direct result of the non-endorsement.

“This is cowardice, a moment of darkness that will leave democracy as a casualty,” former Executive Director Marty Baron stated to Vanity Fair.

A typical reader’s comment on the issue hits close to the truth:

“Let’s be clear. The fundamental problem is billionaires owning the major news outlet. When their personal wealth, power, and self-aggrandizement are threatened, the response is the same. It’s not really a different response than most people would have when threatened.”

CNN analyst Allison Morrow echoes the threat, writing:

“If reelected, Donald Trump has made it clear that he plans to exact revenge on the people and institutions he perceives as a threat. His ‘enemies’ list seems to be constantly growing as the election nears, and includes Democratic politicians, the media, lawyers and political donors…”

CNN reports, Big Tech CEOs are calling Trump, seeking to rekindle their relationship with the former president ahead of Election Day.

The current situation in U.S. media, demonstrated by the Jeff Bezos affair, parallels a similar struggle in the Philippines, as I discussed in my April 25, 2023, ATABAY article Is Philippines Turning into Informational Autocracy? Here’s an excerpt:

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Let’s look at [the Philippine’s] present informational ecosystem to get an inkling. The Manila Times’ Rigoberto Tiglao’s column Marcos’ advantage: An acquiescent press speaks volumes and spot on:

“The [Philippine] Star... can’t offend the Palace, and would be quick to fire any columnist creating trouble for the First Couple… 

"[T]he Philippine Daily Inquirer [PDI] has lost its belligerence... lost a lot when the Duterte administration took away from them the government-owned Mile-Long Commercial Center... likely etched into their heads the lesson that it certainly isn’t financially rewarding to go against a government… Marcos’ cousin, Philip Romualdez, is the husband of Alexandra Prieto, the owning clan’s main representative in running the newspaper.

"Romualdez also owns the tabloid People’s Tonight… 

"Philip’s brother, House Speaker Martin Romualdez, owns the Manila Standard…

"The Manila Bulletin has always very strictly supported whoever is in power…

"The Manila Times... owned by Dante A. Ang [former President GMA’s senior publicist, FPRRD's appointed Special Envoy for International Public Relations, and now PBBM’s Chairman of the Commission on Filipinos Overseas]... 

"Daily Tribune... is said to be close to [FPRRD]... among its columnists are former Duterte chief legal counsel Salvador Panelo [he is now a Manila Times columnist] and presidential special assistant Christopher Lawrence 'Bong' Go..."

Tiglao observes, "I don’t think there’s ever been such a tight hold over the media by an administration.”

Cartoon by Angelo Lopez of Cartoon Movement

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Oddly enough, the warning for America doesn’t come from within its border but from its little brother, the Philippines. Nobel laureate Maria Ressa, who has courageously stood against disinformation and governmental repression in the Philippines, issues a sobering reminder that democracy is at stake in the U.S. election.

Her words resonate far beyond the Philippines, striking a universal chord in any society where the foundation of truth, trust, and law are tested.

“If you have no facts, you can’t have truth. Without truth, you can’t have trust. Without these three, we have no shared reality, no rule of law. We have no democracy. If we lack integrity, there is no integrity in our elections.”

Ressa’s warning speaks not only to the fragility of democratic institutions but also to the responsibilities borne by the press, fact-checkers, and even social media platforms, whose influence now shapes public opinion on an unprecedented scale.

It underscores a broader struggle going beyond political affiliation, reaching into the core values of any democratic society: transparency, accountability, and an informed citizenry.

In an age when powerful forces – from billionaires to governments– can manipulate narratives, the press has a higher calling to uphold the truth. The Washington Post’s iconic tagline, Democracy Dies in Darkness, once an emblem of resilience, now serves as a cautionary reminder of what can happen when the lights begin to dim when economic interests and political pressures erode the integrity of our newsrooms.

The choice to heed Ressa’s warning is ours. Will we demand a press that serves the people, not power? Will we support journalism that stands as a pillar of democracy? Or will we sit back as truth becomes a casualty in the war of influence?

In essence, democracy doesn’t die in a single, decisive moment. It fades, quietly, in increments – when facts are contested, when voices are silenced, and when vigilance gives way to apathy.

And if America, like so many others, doesn’t heed this call to defend the integrity of its institutions, it might find itself mourning the loss of a democracy that vanished in the dark.

Content and editing put together in collaboration with ChatGPT

Head collage photos courtesy of Wikipedia & Spreadshirt

Still photos courtesy of Graham Media Group, Redbubble, Wallpaper Cave, grupobcc.com, Manila Times cartoon, & White House Historical Association