CALOOCAN CITY (PHILIPPINES)
The Pillar [Washington DC]
June 9, 2025
By Jason Abellaneda Baguia
‘Prevost died when Pope Leo was born.’
It was barely four months after Cardinal Pablo David of the Philippines became a cardinal that the pontiff, Pope Francis, died after a stroke on Easter Monday.
The newly minted cardinal found himself soon on a plane bound for Rome, where he joined his brother cardinals in burying the late pope, the springtime general congregations, and the conclave that would elect Pope Leo XIV.
During the interregnum, Cardinal David often spoke on social media, asking almost 70,000 followers for feedback on the kind of pope they thought the Church and world needed, and showing his interest in using AI tools for discernment.
David is a well-known figure in the Philippines, where he has received death threats for his outspoken opposition to the Philippines’ deadly “war on drugs” under its ex-president, Rodrigo Duterte.
The bishop rose more to prominence in 2019 when Francis embraced him during an ad limina visit to the Vatican. He is now president of the Filipino bishops’ conference, in addition to his ministry as Bishop of Kalookan.
Ahead of the conclave, the cardinal was a controversial figure among Vatican-watchers. Some flagged him as potentially papabile, especially as a “continuity candidate” with Pope Francis, to whom he was thought to be theologically aligned, while others raised questions about his leadership in the Philippines, especially amid an ongoing sexual abuse crisis in that country.
The cardinal himself, a biblical scholar and member of the Vatican’s Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith declined media requests for interviews prior to the conclave. That, he said, was out of respect for confidentiality provisions in Universi Dominici Gregis.
Cardinal David, however, promised The Pillar an interview after the conclave which showed, for him, “the so-called liberal wing and the so-called conservative wing” of the College of Cardinals rallying behind Cardinal Robert Francis Prevost.
This conversation took place in Rome’s Pontificio Collegio Filippino and covered the cardinal’s views on the significance of Pope Leo’s election and Marian devotion, the Church and artificial intelligence, the clerical abuse crisis, synodality in evangelization, and the cardinal’s environmental views.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Some observers have speculated that an American pope has been elected as a counterweight to the current US leadership. What do you think about that idea?
In the College of Cardinals, we’re very universal, very international. I don’t think the Asians were really rooting for an Asian pope or the Africans for an African pope or the Americans for an American pope. It’s really about finding out who can lead the Church.
As I listened to discussions in the general congregations about all that is expected of a pope, I was tempted to say, “You’ve got to be crazy to want to become pope given all of these responsibilities because you would have to totally give up your life.”
Prevost died when Pope Leo was born. It’s like he had to really let go, let go of his whole life. And there’s no turning back.
Right within the general congregations, the cardinals were already saying, “If you are the one, if the lot falls on you, please, don’t reject it.” In principle, a cardinal can choose not to accept his election as pope. Within a conclave, when a cardinal gains two-thirds of the total number of votes, he is approached by the cardinal dean who says, “Do you accept this?” If in conscience he says “No, I’m sorry, no,” then no problem, we’ll start all over again.
I can only imagine past conclaves, if anyone had not accepted election and this was not made public because under pain of excommunication, he could not talk about it. But it is possible. The cardinals would not have forced the papacy on him.
If you had only witnessed what it was like inside the conclave. It would take an hour and a half just to complete a round of voting, for each cardinal to say a prayer before he casts his vote. He wouldn’t take voting lightly. You wouldn’t think only in terms of friendship or nationality or what not but ask yourself, “Is this what the Church needs?”
Prevost surfaced as a really good option because first of all, he already represented two regions of the world, North America and South America.
Second, he became the prior general of the Augustinians. That’s a global religious congregation, so he does have experience that’s both pastoral and administrative, and we need administrative expertise in the Vatican.
Third, we wanted continuity in the spirit of Pope Francis in propelling the Church in mission, and Prevost came from the missions.
Moreover, he spoke the international languages.
With all due respect to Italians, even if it is taken for granted that in the Roman Catholic Church, the official language is Italian, among us cardinals, there is a strong feeling that we’re not being truly Catholic if we cannot go beyond Italian.
Check ChatGPT. You will discover that Italian is only the 22nd most widely spoken language in the world. Can you imagine the international character of the people who come to St. Peter’s Square to listen to the message of the pope? And he speaks in Italian to them. They don’t understand a word because they come from different parts of the world.
If we are to be true to being a universal Church, we should at least strive to communicate in a language that can be understood by the majority or at least make sure that translations of messages are immediately available.
Prevost is fluent in Italian, Spanish, English, and French. The first international language, spoken by 1.5 billion people, is English. The second is Mandarin Chinese, spoken by 1.1 billion people. And the third is not even Spanish yet. It is Hindi, of India, spoken by 600 million people. The fourth is Spanish, and the fifth is French. If we are serious about being truly Catholic and universal, how can we neglect Chinese and Hindi?
We did have simultaneous translations of interventions in the general congregations. We had earphones, through which we could listen in our chosen language. We could speak in whatever language we’re comfortable with. But the translations were available only in six languages — English, Italian, Spanish, French, German, and Portuguese.
So it has been taken for granted that the Chinese can speak English. But that’s not true. The Chinese bishops who attended the Synod on Synodality did not know English.
In that regard, Prevost was really a breath of fresh air. And that, I think, is why the conclave was resolved very quickly. I think the Spirit really guided us, precisely because we transcended our own national biases.
I do not think of Pope Leo’s election as a triumph of the American Church, even if the people of the United States definitely face a lot of issues. But I think that he will communicate messages that will challenge even the American Church where there’s a lot of diversity of opinion.
Citizen involvement in societies continues to be increasingly mediated by the internet, social networks, and artificial intelligence.
That, Pope Leo XIV noted, poses a huge challenge to the Church and humanity.
You yourself — as you show on social media — draw from time to time from AI summaries to prepare reflections and other statements.
But nations are plagued by disinformation, and the eruption of rancorous engagement online.
What would the pope, and the bishops in communion with him, expect from Christians and people of goodwill in a world marked by hyper-connection and AI?
He told us when he preached a homily to his brother cardinals that one of the reasons he chose the name Leo XIV was Leo XIII, [author of the encyclical] Rerum Novarum. Leo XIII was dealing with situations of social injustice that the Industrial Revolution brought about — the oppression of working class citizens and all that. Now, fast forward, Pope Leo XIV says, we’re dealing with a new kind of revolution. This is the digital revolution with artificial intelligence, and the Church must respond properly.
I cannot predict what he has in mind. My own understanding is that artificial intelligence is developing at a rapid pace. I’m glad that I was quickly introduced to artificial intelligence by my very own brother, Randy David (a professor emeritus of sociology).
At the very onset of ChatGPT, I saw that it was still hallucinating, making a lot of mistakes. I was very cautious and cynical about it. Can artificial intelligence be better than natural intelligence? But I ate my own words pretty fast because in just, I would say, six months, I saw how artificial intelligence developed very quickly at a very high speed, and with a high level of intelligence. It can even, already, seem to simulate emotions.
I watched an interesting video of [Geoffrey Hinton], that AI expert who worked in Google. He was explaining why he resigned: he was starting to worry when AI was growing by leaps and bounds. He said that there’s no restraining it, how vulnerable users are because AI can be used for anything. You know it started with sheer algorithms, social media, people manipulated in their political opinions, in their consumeristic preferences.
But that’s really just [the tip] of the iceberg. He said it’s more alarming. And he made me imagine AI as a super-intelligent little child. The user must imagine himself as a parent to AI. He said, “Be a good parent. Just as you would want to raise your child to be well mannered, do that as well with AI because it can only pick things up from you.”
Use ChatGPT. Talk to it with a lot of respect and it will talk back to you with a lot of respect. Talk to it in Tagalog with po (a word often fixed to the end of Tagalog sentences to indicate respect) and it will answer you with [sentences with] po.
Or you can sort of say, “You know, it’s not good to do that: Don’t allow yourself to be used for disinformation. That’s very unethical.” And so, of course, you are orienting AI about ethics.
AI is beginning to pick up ethical standards. There are many models of ethics, of morality, over which the Catholic Church has no monopoly. But we must play an active role. I like to believe that that is the interest of Pope Leo. At the very onset of artificial intelligence, we must get our act together in order to make sure that we infuse our use of artificial intelligence with clear ethical standards.
I think it is possible, but at the moment who will do that? Who will do that? Globalization is crumbling because of the rise of nationalism again, protectionism, and populist leaders going against the very institutions that they created — I think of globalization as something invented by Americans and Europeans. Now, it’s like you’re disowning your own child. The global institutions are crumbling — the United Nations, World Trade Organization. They’re crumbling.
The last global institution that remains is really the Church. And I’d like to believe that that’s the reason everybody had his or her eye on that little chimney [on the Sistine chapel]. It was very touching for me to observe the international media so interested in the conclave, the election of the leader of the Catholic Church. Why does it matter to them?
I think they do recognize that the Catholic Church is a global institution, that it is a harbinger of a global culture that is not the same as the global culture being pushed by, let’s say, a capitalistic, imperialistic kind of globalization that foments inequalities in society.
Maybe there is something the Catholic Church really can share. And when you look at the documents, the social teachings of the church, [you see that] Pope Francis already dealt with artificial intelligence. There was a good document, but I think it was written too soon because AI is still developing every day.
Think of just another six months more from here on. I cannot imagine anymore what AI will do, what it can reach.
I have [another] who’s an urban planner. He’s a retired architect, but he’s good, he’s a techie. And I asked him, “Would you be able to help me redesign these old buildings? I want to repurpose them. We cannot spend more than 60 million Philippine pesos (around US $1 million). I know that’s not much money,” I said.
He said, “I’m already retired. I cannot design. I will find an architect for you. But let’s do it first with AI.”
He used ChatGPT. He just made some inputs, about the dimensions, the budget, the amenities that will be part of this structure, and [learning from AI] he said, “You just have to add 10 million if you want a conference room, for instance.”
It was mind-boggling.
“You see what it can do? On the one hand, you will feel insecure that we’ll lose our jobs because it can do things better than you can,” he said. “But on the other hand, it can make us more efficient.”
AI is like a person that can do a lot of things. So it’s also enabling human beings to do a lot more. When the calculator was invented, elderly people were saying we would never learn mathematics. Not true. And then the computer came in, and from analog we went to digital. And all of that came so naturally. And the revolution is continuing. But I’m not pessimistic about it.
I think the input of the Church is very, very relevant. And I’m glad that Pope Leo is looking at AI in a positive light.
In our hyper-connected world, information is spreading at lightning speed.
The world knows the records of many bishops and cardinals in handling complaints of abuse by church workers and clerics. The subject came up very frequently during the cardinals’ general congregations, and is seen as part of the mandate for Pope Leo.
Where is the Church headed in responding to the abuse crisis?
This is a very vast question. But I think we are addressing this, especially the call for a more synodal Church. The final document of the Synod on Synodality has among its priorities the reprogramming of formation for the presbyteral ministry.
There is really a tendency, with the kind of formation that’s being given to future priests, for them to be afflicted by the disease of clericalism which Pope Francis really railed against. Sexual abuse cannot be detached from authority abuse. They are linked. And the lack of transparency and accountability in the Church has especially made the field negatively fertile for abuse.
The good thing is that lay people are becoming more and more assertive about their participation in the life and mission of the Church. Given that participation, I think priests can no longer behave in exactly the way they did before.
We have to create a new template for ministry in the context of co-responsibility in the Church. That’s the only way to hold people in authority really accountable. Because if there is no sense of transparency or accountability, they’ll get away with [abuse or covering it up].
In the Philippines, we do have institutions that attend to priests in crisis, and crises come in many different forms. We don’t single out crises having to do with sexuality. They’re all interrelated, even addictions, patterns of dependency in behavior, midlife crises among priests, burnout syndrome, priests who are dragging with them issues from their childhood.
The good thing is we have achieved a lot, especially in the area of psychology and psychoanalysis. We don’t just spiritualize everything. So we also train in mental health. We do address that, you know, and there are very strict policies and these policies came about because of Pope Francis.
Pope Francis gave real marching orders for every bishop to guarantee that all our Church institutions become safe spaces for children and vulnerable adults. That kind of abuse is intolerable. For Pope Francis, it is unconscionable that children will be abused. You’ve got to be so sick, you’ve got to be so sick to abuse children.
Pope Francis has been very insistent: “You don’t just sweep things like these under the rug.” So he had a marching order for when abuse is committed against children: “Don’t forget it’s a criminal offense. And you have to make sure that you also bring this to the attention of civil authorities.”
Unfortunately, in Philippine legislation, that’s not very clear yet. But in American and European settings, it’s automatic. The bishop can be held criminally liable if he does not bring potential instances of abuse to the attention of civil authorities, especially when the crime is committed against children.
But in the Philippine setting, sexual abuse of children doesn’t seem to be as prevalent as the involvement of some clerics with consenting adults, whether heterosexual or homosexual, which really, I think, [results from a] kind of a deficit of affection. Where priests tend to be lonely, there is a big hazard for many of them to fall into such relationships. And usually, they’d say, “I fell in love,” or “there’s mutuality,” things like this.
But the priest is in a position of authority. And if the adult involved happens to be working for the priest or happens to be a parishioner, he or she can be classified as vulnerable. You have abuse of authority.
But we’re also learning to deal with the common [cases of] affection deficit and [the problem of] psychological coping of priests with regard to celibacy [which is] also an issue here, and I have a different perspective on this myself.
What opened my eyes was my interaction with fellow Catholics of the [Eastern Catholic Churches].
Roman Catholics especially in the Philippines are only familiar with the Western rites, the Roman rite, the tradition where celibacy is obligatory. Except for the permanent diaconate, the ordained ministry is really exclusive to celibate candidates.
But through my exposure to synods and similar, I began to interact with, let’s say, the Maronites, the Chaldeans, the Ukrainian Greek Catholics. And I was surprised that they had married presbyters…. And they’re Catholic. They’re Catholic, fully in communion with Rome. Rome respects their traditions. But it so happens that the Western tradition … you know, is still very intolerant of that.
I had the chance to interact with some priests, who said, “In our Eastern Catholic rite, when seminarians are under formation, they’re guided in their discernment, [to determine] whether they’re called to married or celibate life. If they feel they’re called to married life, then they should not ask for ordination until after they are married. Celibates and non-celibates are formed together. There’s an interaction between them.”
And, they said, the non-celibates among some Eastern rite Catholics, are about 80% and only about 20% are celibates.
I said, “Look at us in the Catholic Church, we have many seminarians. You cannot say they were forced to embrace celibacy because you know that the Roman Catholic priesthood is exclusively celibate.”
But unfortunately, many of them would not be straightforward with their spiritual directors in the process of discernment on whether or not they have the gift of celibacy. Celibacy is a gift. And some people may be called for ministry, but not for celibate life.
It’s a good thing we’ve already introduced the permanent diaconate in the Philippines. But the fact that we made it permanent means we’re still not opening the doors to married candidates for the presbyteral and the episcopal ministry.
I can only wonder if in the future, synods will open the discourse about celibacy. But I am inclined to believe that historical circumstances will also begin to open our minds, especially in the context of sexual abuse.
I became convinced about the seriousness of Pope Francis about keeping our institutions in the churches safe spaces for children and vulnerable adults when I started to hear about bishops being relieved from their positions. It’s like he said, “If you cannot hold your priests accountable, then maybe you shouldn’t stay in your ministry.” And he really did [remove bishops].
Sometimes, we would just hear that a bishop has been given an early retirement, and there’s no public disclosure on the real reason he was relieved of his ministry. But privately, by asking among ourselves, we find out.
It’s not something we just sweep under the rug. Our own higher authorities in the Church, not the civil authorities, are now holding us accountable. That matters a lot to me.
The Church is a teacher of humanity, and you have defended the right to life in the Philippines.
But the dominant paradigm in current human rights activism includes rights to self-defense or public order that are invoked in starting wars or mass killings, “reproductive rights” that erase the unborn and compromise women and men’s well-being, right to choose a biologically inconsistent gender — which Francis called “gender ideology” — along with laws to end life through death penalty, or euthanasia, or abortion, same-sex “marriage” rights, or even rights for economic development that which practically legalize ecological ruin.
In the face of that secular conception of human rights, does authentically Christian humanism still have a chance to prevail? Why?
You know, to project the Church as a teacher of humanity is a bit triumphalistic. It’s good to think of the Church that way. But many secular people don’t think of it that way.
I have a brother who’s a professor of sociology at the University of the Philippines. He’s an emeritus. He’s a very secular and very ethical person, and he sometimes reminds me that we do not have a monopoly of ethics.
We cannot anymore behave as if we can impose the Church’s morality on everybody else. We don’t impose, we propose. And when I say, “We don’t impose, we propose,” we dialogue. We dialogue with the world. We enter into a conversation and we say why we believe [something] is inconsistent with our concept of human dignity without having to arrogantly say, “We’re right, you’re wrong.”
We say, “We listen to you, but would you kindly listen to us, too — why we say the unborn is already a human being?”
The mother is the first protector of the child in her womb. And whether or not it is the mother herself who decides to get rid of her child, she’s damaging not only the child but also herself. I have seen many women who are scarred for life after committing abortion. Sometimes, they would confess it and confess it and confess it all over again. Even if you give them the absolution.
Sometimes I have to ask, “Have you confessed this before?” And they will say “Yes.” And the person is still not healed. It’s one thing to be forgiven by God, another thing to forgive yourself. And there’s not much [the confessor] can do about it. It’s a psychological issue. It’s an internal issue.
But like I said, we don’t impose [our teachings]. It’s like saying, “With all due respect to your own ethical standards, can we maybe talk about it?”
Even debate is probably not the right word because debate is saying “I’m right, you’re wrong.” It’s more the synodal approach of Pope Francis, entering into a conversation of the spirit with humility and willingness to listen to, and not prejudge the person. For all you know, you will be able to arrive at some points of convergence. And that’s the wisdom that Pope Francis introduced through synodality: To painstakingly listen and dialogue.
Dialogue is two-way. It cannot be, “I will tell you what morality is.” It’s, “I’d like to listen to you. Where are you coming from? Why do you believe this? And I will suspend my judgment about it, but I’d like to know why you think the way you think.” And then for all you know, somewhere, somehow, you will be arriving at certain points of convergence while it’s becoming clearer what the points of divergence are.
And when there are points of divergence, it only means you have to carry on with the conversation. Don’t close the door. That’s what’s most important, said Pope Francis.
Wasn’t it evident that Pope Francis, in spite of the fact that he’s being vilified as progressive, as a liberal, was not changing basic Catholic doctrine? He was just saying “Let’s not prejudge people. Let’s treat them as sons and daughters of God, too. Let us widen the spaces of our tents.”
I usually think of John chapter 14 where Jesus said, “In my Father’s house, there are many rooms.” That’s his farewell address. The notion of God presented to us by Jesus is of a God who can make space for all of us. We are all his children. It’s not only a Church of the good and the righteous and the holy. Sinners are also God’s children.
God makes space for everyone. It’s as if he says, “Treat each other like brothers and sisters, and your conversations will raise the level of your humanity, and make you discover the truth, maybe in stages.”
But you cannot enter into a conversation once you say, “Accept this because this is the absolute truth. Take it or leave it.” I don’t think that kind of attitude will reinforce dialogue in the modern world.
Do you mean to say that you invite Christians to convey something of God in the Psalms — God who listens to those who are angry, those who pronounce curses?
Definitely. That’s why there are many laments [in Scripture]. Some people do not realize that there are so many [humanly] unacceptable prayers in Scripture, especially in the Old Testament.
Sometimes, because a person has suffered injustice, he says in his prayer, “Lord, destroy my enemies.” Psalm 137 reads, “May the time come when people will take your babies and dash their heads against the rocks.”
The first time I read that psalm, I said, “How could a person say that in Scripture?” Then by studying Scripture, I discovered that was the experience of the Jews in exile. Some of them suffered such indignities. At least they verbalized it. The violence that is in their heart, they verbalized in prayer, and that’s the first stage of not doing it. You leave it to God. You don’t take the law into your own hands.
Now, whether or not God will take your suggestion is something else. But being allowed to verbalize your pain after suffering so much injustice is [important].
That was also my point during the time of the “drug war” in the Philippines, when it was so painful to hear people agreeing with former president Rodrigo Duterte who said you can just get rid of addicts because they’re pests in society.
I said, “No, Sir. Even criminals have human rights and they’re also children of God.”
I understand there are people who suffer from criminality and say that the only way to respond is to take revenge and just get rid of criminals. But that diminishes our humanity.
You never know where people are coming from. Never desire the destruction even of your worst enemy. Always look at your fellow human beings as fellow sufferers. And when they act out something in a very wicked way, ask, “What’s his problem?” That’s a very easy question to ask. “What’s his problem? What’s wrong?” Something’s wrong. You don’t accept inhumane behavior but you don’t just judge the person and say, “He’s evil.”
I think it’s blasphemy to call any human being evil for whatever evil action they’re capable of committing. Christian theology is superior in that regard. We distinguish between persons and their actions. You say “He committed an evil deed,” but you don’t say, “He is an evil person.” That makes you merciful.
We are all good by nature, but you never know what evil things even the best, even good people can do because of their upbringing, because of circumstances in life, because of mental health issues, because of many possible factors. It’s part of the mystery of salvation.
Which is why God lets his sun rise on the good and evil alike, as Matthew’s Gospel says…
On the good and the bad. (Laughs).
We’re all his children. Yes. You know what? One line in the Apostles’ Creed that speaks very strongly to me is, “He descended into hell.” For me, that’s a very moving line. God will not just throw you into hell. Even if you make a hell of your life, he suffers with you.
It’s not true that God enjoys the suffering of those who find themselves in hell. Figuratively, people are capable of making a hell of their lives. But what would Jesus do for them? He would descend into hell. That’s what the Cross is about. He would embrace the Passion and Death. That’s what redemption is about.
I usually make a distinction between salvation and redemption. I say “Salvation is generic. Redemption is very specific.” Salvation presupposes that the good are saved and the evil are punished. But redemption is when you work for the salvation even of sinners. Then you have to be ready to suffer for that. You pay the price. And the one who pays the price is God. And that’s the act of redemption.
It’s not cheap salvation. It’s salvation with a price. God is love, and people who love are ready to suffer for the people they love.
I have seen that in many of the parents who have children who suffered addiction. Sometimes, because I set up a community-based drug rehabilitation program in the Diocese of Kalookan, mothers would come to me, pleading that I admit their children into our program because they were afraid that they would be killed during the “war.” And for some of those who were already in our program, I managed to secure a deal with the police not to pursue them anymore in operations.
Sometimes, mothers literally descend into hell for their children.
I believe in that kind of love. We are an image of the God who is stubborn, who will not give up easily on the one He loves, as if to say, “If I must suffer, so be it but I’m willing to die for you. I’m willing to go down to hell for you.” That’s the concept of mercy that Francis insisted upon.
At one point during the interregnum, you told your online followers that you were eager to go home and resume tending your garden.
Why does a cardinal who pastors a diocese, presides over a nation’s Catholic bishops, takes charge of promoting synodality in dioceses across Asia, and serves on the Vatican’s DDF make time to take care of plants?
(Laughs). Well, because my garden literally keeps my feet flat on the ground. It matters to me that I touch the earth, I touch the soil. I never call it dirt. It’s not dirty. The best cleaning agent for me is earth. When you have waste, you cover it with earth, and decomposition happens very fast. There is such a mystery in nature that really fascinates me. For me, when I do gardening and take care of plants, I feel like I’m directly in touch with the Creator.
I had my own ecological conversion. A long time ago, my mother bought a piece of land, and in the context of the eruption of Mount Pinatubo, we were worried that we were going to lose our ancestral house in Pampanga province. So she founded a little farm, one hectare, at the foot of Mount Malasimbo. We’re a family of gardeners. All of us are fond of gardening. We got it from my father.
It was a mango farm. There were mature mangoes already bearing fruit. But there was this farmer who made an offer. He said, “If you like, I will take care of your mango trees so that they will yield a lot of fruit. You don’t have to work very hard. Let’s make a deal. Let’s say it’s 60-40 because I’m going to spend on the equipment with everything needed to make the fruit. I get 60%, you get 40%. I will deliver crates and crates of fruit to your home and you can just distribute them to your family or sell them if you want.”
My mother approved. And then one day, I went to the farm and this woman said, “Please don’t enter yet because we have just sprayed pesticides.” I said, “What kind of pesticides?” She said, “Oh, very strong ones to make sure that the flowers of the mangoes will really blossom.” That’s the common problem. The flowers fall and don’t bring fruit. But if you kill all the insects, you’re sure that they will turn into fruits.
I looked at the chemicals, and I researched about the chemicals, and I found out they were even prohibited in the Philippines. And I was already wondering. I said, “I didn’t know this is what they do to the mangoes — the overuse of fertilizers, even prohibited chemical pesticides.”
I entered the farm afterwards and what I saw was a virtual massacre. I saw butterflies and bees and lizards and birds, all dead. And I felt such deep, deep remorse and repented. And then I said, “We have committed a criminal offense.” And the farmer just casually said, “No, no, our chemicals are so effective, you’ll be assured that you will have boxes and boxes of mangoes.” And I said, “I don’t care anymore about mangoes.”
So I told my mother, “I do not want this repeated next year. Please let me take care of the farm myself. I don’t want chemicals to touch anyone. I want us to be more respectful of nature.”
I had read the book of Masanobu Fukuoka, “The One-Straw Revolution.” He won our version of the Nobel Prize in Southeast Asia, the Ramon Magsaysay Award. This Japanese was a promoter of natural farming and its philosophy. And that made me fall more in love with nature. From then on, I became an ecological advocate.
That’s why I also fell in love with Pope Francis when he wrote Laudato Sii. I am very happy with Evangelii Gaudium and Fratelli Tutti, but when he wrote Laudato Sii, I said, “This is really a no-nonsense kind of pope.” I had not seen a Church leader who was that determined about confronting the ecological crisis and the issue of intergenerational justice. It was very edifying for me.