ast night I had a dream. In fact a very vivid one. And in that dream, I dreamed of another dream. I usually do not remember dreams upon waking – just some glimpses of this and that. But this one was different.
I was watching old clips of Ka Erdy and his sermons, his family strolls inside the Central compound. There were clips of his children very young then. Smiles of everyone enjoying a quiet evening together with their father. It was a very joyous time for the church. Then, I sat back and contemplated on the Church of today. The family divided. The brethren divided. Scandals of all sorts. I felt sad. Very sad. And I fell asleep in that dream and dreamed of a second dream.
I was suddenly thrown back into another era. Ka Erdy was still alive and young. His children too. EVM was there, not a thought in the world that he would be the cause of the greatest upheaval in church history. One happy family. United.
Then Ka Erdy stood in the pulpit and preached a sermon with such drive and force like no other to the attending crowd. The sermon was about persecution in the last days of the church. Ang pag-uusig at pagsubok na hindi pa naranasan ng buong Iglesia. It was a sermon to strengthen the brethren’s resolve and to hold on to God’s teachings no matter what. The crowd was now in wailing as he led the closing prayer pleading with God to protect his children.
Suddenly I was before him, our Ka Erdy. My eyes could no longer hold back the tears starting to flow down my quivering lips. He looked at me in an inquisitive manner. Then I managed to ask him,
“Papaano, kung ang matinding pagsubok na itinuro po ninyo ay magmumula sa loob ng Iglesia?
“Hindi matatalikod, maninindigan ang mga kapatid,” answered Ka Erdy.
“Papaano…kung ang paguusig sa loob ng Iglesia ay magmumula sa iyong sambahayan?”
I was now crying like a baby. He was taken aback. Then slowly approached me close.
He embraced me and asked, “Sino?” When I didn’t answer, he asked a second time, “Sino?”
“Ang hahalili po sa inyo sa iyong pagkamatay, ang iyong panganay”
His shoulders dropped and his whole being consumed with sadness, a sadness no words can ever express. The grief, the heartache clearly reflected in his eyes. He lightly patted my arms and turned around and with a heavy heart slowly walked back into his room.
I will never forget that face. That look of grief, sorrow, the look of failure. The cause of his early death.
I then woke up. Then realized that each of us has his own cross to carry. Ka Erdy’s must have been the heaviest.