Telling It on a Mountain

by Jane Sutton

Father Benigno Beltran worked with garbage scavengers in Manila, the capital of the Philippines, helping to transform them into a productive Christian community. His ministry has earned many honors, including World Vision's 1997 Robert W. Pierce Award for Christian Service. But Fr. Ben points to obedience: "I would not do otherwise. Jesus would not do otherwise."

When Father Ben Beltran came to Smokey Mountain 20 years ago, he saw a garbage heap almost 100 feet high, reeking of methane gas and polluting the air and water. The dumpsite - ironically named for its resemblance to the Smokey Mountains in the United States - was a blight on the landscape, a political hot potato, a shameful symbol of urban decay. It was also home to a large squatter population.

The young Catholic priest resolved, "In a Christian country, there should not be 25,000 people surviving by picking through the garbage." That day, he began to dream of a new Smokey Mountain.

Now, the dream is being realized by Sambayanang Kristiyano, Smokey Mountain's self-sufficient, spiritually-strong community. Under Fr. Ben's tutelage, community members have turned from humiliating scavenging to better jobs, and converted the squatter settlement into something resembling a real neighborhood. The success earned Fr. Ben international attention, funding, and access to Philippine President Fidel Ramos. But to this modest man, none of that equals his long, loving association with Smokey Mountain, where children take his hand and press it to their foreheads in a gesture of honor.

Going to the Mountain

Fr. Ben's life is inextricably entwined with Smokey Mountain. He has become more a product of this place than the forests of Mindinao (a southern Philippine island) where he was born in 1946. His parents, Benigno Sr., a retired government official, and Concepcion, a teacher, recall that Ben, the oldest of five, was drawn to the religious life early, signing up to be a church altar boy before he could see over the altar. A serious student, he was valedictorian of both his elementary and high school graduating classes.

After college, Ben entered the seminary of the Society of the Divine Word, assisted by Benigno Sr., who quit smoking and drinking and put that money toward Ben's expenses. Although originally interested in missions work in Africa, the newly-ordained Fr. Ben seemed destined to teach in the seminary. But he was troubled by his inability to connect theory with practice. His solution: "I decided to look for the poorest of the poor and just be with them." He asked the Sisters of Charity, Mother Theresa's order, to help him find a needy place. They sent him to Smokey Mountain.

Since 1954, Manila's government had been dumping garbage on this former fishing area. As the dump grew, so did the number of scavengers - people broken by the hardships of the city who had no choice but to live among refuse and rats. Politicians, journalists, and aid workers came to gawk at the dumpsite, quickly fleeing the stench and crushing poverty. Fr. Ben stayed.

"I was not trained for breathing in smoke and particles 24 hours a day, or eating inside mosquito nets because otherwise the food would be full of flies," he says. "Nobody can train you for that." He developed chronic bronchitis and allergies.

Fr. Ben led the celebration of the Eucharist every Sunday in a run-down chapel that was later repaired to become the Church of the Risen Christ. "[The Mass] was the answer to the people's prayers," Fr. Ben says. "It gave them a sense of identity." He walked around the shantytown and talked to people, gradually earning their trust.

Fr. Ben's vision for the community crystallized in 1983. The government, eyeing the financial opportunities of a revitalized waterfront, forcibly resettled the Smokey Mountain squatters to another area. "The people came back because there were no jobs," Fr. Ben recalls. "They were starving to death." He set up a tarpaulin for a temporary chapel, and the work began in earnest. Starting with the natural leaders, he began training people to form "basic Christian communities" - families grouped into cells with elected leaders representing their interests on various problem-solving committees, including livelihood, health, education, culture, spirituality, sport, and housing.

Some community factions opposed the work. Fr. Ben received death threats. Once, a grenade was hurled onto the roof of his living quarters. It didn't explode, nor did it deter him. He dismisses the incident as a nuisance "on equal terms with the flies." His parents remember Ben's perseverance: "I cannot run away from problems," he told them.

Smokey Mountain changed Fr. Ben. "I learned that God is speaking through the poor," he says. "We should not think that only theologians understand the Bible. We have not listened to the poor. Just because they are unlettered does not mean that the truths of the Bible cannot be revealed to them."

Fr. Ben implemented Bible sharing, in which community members read and discuss Scripture, empowering them to take a more active role in their faith without cues from clergy - a break with tradition in this predominantly Catholic country. "Even in our absence, people can talk about problems and settle issues," says Fr. Jerome Marquez, who joined the Smokey Mountain staff in 1995. "It makes the Bible the key to community organizing, sustenance, and growth."

As funding came in from the Philippine and U.S. governments, private donors, and relief agencies (World Vision supported leadership training), the community launched education programs and built a water system, a multi-purpose center, and paved walkways between people's homes and the dump. Such changes had great impact on residents such as Christine Calisterio, who used to be shunned at the market because she smelled after trudging through muddy garbage. Families also moved from their squatter shacks into temporary housing, and soon will live in attractive permanent apartments. "I only started to believe in miracles when I came here," says Fr. Jerome.

Missionaries to the Asphalt Jungle

The Society of the Divine Word seminary in Tagaytay, a three-hour drive from Manila, offers a glimpse into the other side of Fr. Ben's life - contemplation regeneration. The quiet seminary, surrounded by lush banana and coffee plants and colorful bougainvillea, provides the perfect setting.

Fr. Ben teaches here two days a week, preparing young seminarians for urban ministry. "You have to read and keep up with theorists, otherwise you run out of ideas," he explains.

Part of Fr. Ben's effectiveness in the classroom is that he lives what he teaches, says Fr. Jerome, a former student. "[The work] becomes very concrete when you see it in action."

"A new humanity is being born in the city, and that's why missionaries should go there," insists Fr. Ben. "Our romanticism tells us we should go to places like New Guinea. But the decisions influencing the lives of hundreds of millions are not made in the villages, but in the asphalt jungle."

Recently he presented a multi-media symposium on "The Church in the City," introducing seminarians to global urbanization trends and the complex needs of the urban poor, ending with a challenge to the church to respond. The information overwhelmed many of the young men from rural regions. But in the open forum, one student commented, "Hope for the city is in our hands. We are the church. But before we can change the world, we must change ourselves."

Such is the task of those who will follow in Fr. Ben's footsteps. At 51, he is ready to leave Smokey Mountain in the capable hands of community leaders. At the year's end he will travel to the United States to set up an urban ministry training program with missiologist Ray Bakke. There are, after all, many Smokey Mountains in the world needing the "new heavens and new earth" promises of Isaiah 65.

"What we have reaped here is all because a man had a vision," says Fr. Jerome. "It's like Jesus' vision for everybody - the kingdom of God."

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Telling It on a Mountain

God's Word

Urbana Stories

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December 27-31, 2009