Feast of St. Andrew the Apostle

Jesus always walks. He walks to the mountain, to Jerusalem, on dusty roads, even on the water. The gospel today tells us that Jesus was walking by the Sea of Galilee. By walking we meet people, we talk to people, we smell people, we hear people. This encounter while walking is denied of us this pandemic. But there is no other way – we need to walk, not just talk. We need to walk our talk, as the Americans would say.

Jesus met his four closest friends while walking. There, he recruited his closest collaborators – John and James, Peter and Andrew, the last one we celebrate today. After their training, he sent them all out “to walk” to the ends of the earth. The first reading says: “How beautiful are the feet who bring the good news”.

St. Andrew walked the whole of his life to proclaim the gospel only to be crucified in the far Greece, on an X-cross at his request because he felt he was not worthy to be crucified the way they did with Jesus. Walking can also kill you.

Let me reflect with you on walking as prophetic resistance.

The feet relate with the values of freedom, devotion and bliss. We walk to experience consolation in a leisurely stroll, excitement in our escapades, or renewed meaning after a long pilgrimage. But not all feet stride with purpose and joy. Not all walking leads us to optimistic horizons.

In fact, some feet are maimed by suffering and pain. I have seen cold feet of drug addicts lying dead on small alleys brutally killed by President Duterte’s police. Next to it is a placard which reads: “Addict, huwag tularan”. (“I am a drug addict. Do not imitate me”). As if to say, “never walk with me for they will also shoot you.”

There are feet wrapped in hospital linens on the way to the morgue – victims of COVID-19 virus – who died alone without the consolation of his beloved’s hug and assuring whisper. What a sad sight. Those feet are the last ones we saw as they are packed into body bags to the crematorium.

I have seen feet full of mud as they were trying to save whatever the typhoons Rolly and Ulysses have left of their home and property – the only thing they have saved in their lives. Under the mud, there is actually nothing to start life with.

There are tired feet of hungry men and women walking aimlessly along the streets, as they look for food at the height of the pandemic lockdown. They have travelled for so long; they have chased many relief vans; they have become so sick and weak that it was impossible to proceed any further.

Yet despite pain and debility, some feet persist in walking. I have seen the feet of old widows and mothers stepping on sewing machine pedals that brings home some little food at the end of the day for the orphans brutally deprived of their breadwinners. Those feet have become so worn-out and trembling that they no longer coordinate with their hands and eyes. But they need to keep on in order to survive. As Lola Remy (85-years old mother of an EJK victim who had to take care of seven grandchildren) says: "They want to kill us. No, we will live."

I have seen tireless feet of frontliners – doctors, nurses, caregivers, med techs – who stand up and walk about for endless hours in hospital wards to provide the sick with needed care. They also have their own families to take care of but stand up and walk they must to save others' lives.

We know of muddied feet of subsistence farmers in their farms which provide us food while we hide in fear within the security of our homes during the lockdown. The prices of their goods have become so low for some time – they could not even feed their families. Ironically, those who fed us could not even feed themselves.

These feet, these walking feet, witness to what Thich Nhat Hahn tells us: “Walk as if you are kissing the Earth with your feet,” kissing the Earth with care and compassion.

Their prophetic walking provides resistance and hope to a maimed world paralyzed by disease, hunger and violence. Like St. Andrew, the blood of the walking prophets and martyrs give us life.

Daniel Franklin E. Pilario, C.M.
St. Vincent School of Theology
Adamson University – Philippines
danielfranklinpilario@yahoo.com
11.30.2020