In mid-November 2020, I invited Giselle, who leads our choral group Himig Sandiwa, and her mom, Tita Angge, to our house for dinner.
The invitation came after she had missed a couple of gatherings at home—a fellowship back in February when my wife was around to prepare flavoursome dishes for a handful of members, and a Halloween-themed party in October, which she had to miss at the last minute.
Over beef mechado, cooked with the assistance of my wife from a distance, we talked about a variety of things, including plans for the choir group in 2021. More than eight months after the declaration of a global pandemic, we missed our Tuesday practices and performances during the first and fourth Sundays of each month. We were all grappling with lockdowns, job security fears, and mental health challenges. Such circumstances could impact our faith, so spiritual nourishment—beyond watching YouTube masses at home—was a welcome addition.
Photo credit: Caj Sosito
A few months later, this plan translated into a formal request to hold a retreat. Thankfully, the Filipino Chaplaincy-Chatswood Parish pledged to bankroll a significant portion of the expenses. This also coincided with Fr Joey Frez’s intention to conduct similar activities across various groups in Our Lady of Dolours Parish. What we needed to do was pick a date, secure commitment from group members, and confirm the availability of Fr Joey or other speakers.
The weekend of 26–28 February was chosen for the retreat. We had six weeks to prepare, which gave us enough time to organise everything—from finding a venue to planning the two-day program. The organising committee was composed of Giselle, Diony, Joy, Caj, and myself.
We found a venue in Pymble: the Jesuit-run Peter Canisius House, named after a Dutch saint whose feast day coincides with my birthday. It was an ideal venue—not only because of its facilities and peaceful atmosphere, but also because of its proximity to home. Just a 15-minute drive away, it was also convenient for Fr Joey to travel to his other commitments between sessions.
In the past, our retreats as members of Singles for Christ in Hong Kong were held on Cheung Chau Island over a weekend. Our small group of about 15 would listen to talks, share experiences, and perform communal tasks such as cleaning the kitchen and washing dishes. A priest would join us to celebrate the Holy Eucharist and hear confessions. Our retreat in Sydney was not too different in terms of participant numbers and depth of topics.
The first talk Fr Joey gave was framed by a series of questions: What is my purpose? What is my plan? How do I follow Jesus? He used the contrasting approaches of Mary and Martha to illustrate these questions. Each talk was introduced by the soothing music of Bukas Palad—an inspiration for our group, which is accustomed to performing similar hymns. The music helped create a sense of calm and detachment from everyday distractions.
I realised I was more like Martha in how I handled the retreat preparations. I was very hands-on but also tended to micromanage—from preparing paperwork and assigning rooms to tracking the program schedule and arranging a birthday cake. Joy reminded me that I didn’t have to worry about every detail, as I had already done most of the work. Perhaps I was seeking recognition if things went according to plan, instead of allowing God’s plan to unfold perfectly.
Seeing Himig Sandiwa pray the rosary together was a touching moment. I’m used to seeing the group practice songs and play instruments, but watching Ryan and Mark lead the rosary with their partners was something new. It reminded me of an idea I once had—to hold a weekly rosary via Zoom during cancelled Tuesday practices—but never pursued.
Tita Ditas Naguit led a workshop on the crucial role of laypeople in the Church. Back in Hong Kong, our Couples for Christ community actively served in various ways—we sang in the choir, the children served as altar servers, and I wore multiple hats: lector and Eucharistic minister. Her sharing resonated with the call for a new evangelisation. Laypeople, as missionaries, extend the reach of priests—not by dragging people into church, but by bringing the Good News wherever people are: in prisons, hospitals, or workplaces.
I also asked her about her experience leading the Filipino community in Chatswood through FCCP. As a founding member, she witnessed its humble beginnings, its growth over time, and how God multiplied the seeds planted through Filipino involvement in the parish—just as He does in communities around the world.
Photo credit: Mark Angelo Alarcio.
From my experience leading the singles ministry in Hong Kong—and now in Sydney—there is a strong sense of accountability and self-worth when people are given roles, no matter how small. During the Christian Life Seminar, I tried to involve everyone: leading prayers, operating the projector, preparing food, or sharing talks. That’s how laypeople should serve—no task is too small when done for the Lord.
We had a full schedule of talks, yet it never felt rushed. There was ample time to rest, catch up, or take a walk around the venue. Saturday’s cloudy weather made it perfect for a leisurely stroll. Naturally, we couldn’t resist taking photos—whether in the meeting room, outdoors, or even candid moments like my animated conversation with Ryan about his outreach trips to India.
It was remarkable that Fr Joey managed to secure other speakers on short notice. Fr David Ranson later joined us and spoke about the meaning of beauty in our service as a choral group. As a new priest in the parish, he carried a warm and welcoming presence.
“To be awake is to be alive,” Fr David quoted Henry David Thoreau, reflecting on the deeper meaning of awareness and purpose.
We can be “asleep” even with our eyes open—not physically resting, but failing to appreciate beauty and meaning. Just as Jesus healed the blind, He invites us to awaken from spiritual blindness and recognise our purpose in His plan.
Fr David shared an experience in an art gallery where people rushed to take photos instead of pausing to appreciate the artwork. It reminded me of our visit to Van Gogh Alive!, where we were more focused on sharing content on social media than fully immersing ourselves in the experience. We didn’t do anything wrong—we simply chose a different, perhaps less meaningful, way of appreciating art.
Aesthetic beauty appeals to our senses, but Christian beauty, as Fr David explained, is revealed through Christ’s redemptive suffering. The Transfiguration—“His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light” (Mt 17:2)—points toward the deeper beauty of His passion, death, and resurrection.
Deacon Roberto Corpuz joined us on his birthday (technically the following day, as it was a leap year) and gave a workshop on vocation. As the only married person in the group, I have already chosen my vocation, though I was teased about becoming a deacon.
I learned that a deacon can also be a married layperson—a concept new to me. Previously, I thought it was only a transitional stage before priesthood. Deacon Roberto explained this clearly and even demonstrated parts of the ordination rite.
He recalled the 1939 film Goodbye Mr. Chips, particularly the song “Fill the World with Love,” which reflects the stages of life—from youth to maturity to reflection. It poses a powerful question: Did I live with courage, truth, and love?
He also shared his experiences in Hong Kong, which resonated with my own—serving communities, engaging with fellow singles, and participating in missions like Live Christ Share Christ.
Earlier, he asked us to pick a number from 1 to 12. I chose #1, expecting to be called to speak or perform. Instead, it turned out to be a raffle for a God’s Word 2021 daily Gospel book. My number was picked, but I gave it to someone who didn’t have a copy, as I had already received one as a gift.
In the concluding session, Fr Joey asked us to reflect on our plans for service, ministry, and spiritual growth. Joy and Ryan shared insightful thoughts, and I echoed their desire to use our professions in service to the Church. This commitment complements our desire to deepen our faith through Scripture and Church history.
We cannot give what we do not have.
The retreat was not only about spiritual nourishment but also about rest and joy. This didn’t necessarily mean silence or digital detox—though Fr Joey hinted at it—but also included moments of fun, like music sessions and social activities.
Diony, in particular, brought energy to the group with his creative icebreakers that challenged our artistic side. (Mark, how does a tiger sing in two seconds?)
I was also catching up on a 200km Strava challenge for February, so I made time for early walks and runs. Whether it was a walk at Dalrymple-Hay Nature Reserve or a run around Turramurra, every step counted. Despite some changes in company, the pleasant weather helped me complete the challenge.
I’m grateful this retreat took place. Since arriving in Australia, I had only gone to confession once, so this was long overdue. Witnessing the veneration of the Blessed Sacrament was a deeply moving experience.
As I joined the Filipino community in celebrating 500 years of Christianity in the Philippines on March 16, I also looked forward to May 8—the 500th anniversary of the birth of Saint Peter Canisius, my adopted saint.