REV. FR. JOSEPH CHARLES GRAMS SCHWEGMANN: REMEMBERING A SERVANT OF CHRIST

REV. FR. JOSEPH CHARLES GRAMS SCHWEGMANN: REMEMBERING A SERVANT OF CHRIST

By: Al Ponciano R. Datu

                Roughly sixteen years ago, that was in 1994 when I first saw a caucasian man playing basketball with priests at the Saint John Vianney Theological Seminary covered court in an afternoon days before the celebration of the feast of the patron saint of diocesan priests. I can no longer remember who were my companions then, though one thing sure was that they were my fellow seminarians of the Spirituality Formation Year of San Jose de Mindanao Seminary which was just nearby. What I can remember most was that I asked them who this particular man was and whether or not he was one of the remnants of Irish or Australian Columban missionaries just like the late Reverend Father Francis Chapman. I learned later on that he was neither Irish nor Australian but an American and certainly not a missionary but a diocesan priest assigned at the parish of his saintly namesake, Saint Joseph at Salay, Misamis Oriental.

                What specially caught my attention was the simplicity of the man in a way that he was not wearing any shoes while playing basketball. He was very much at home playing with those diocesan priests and as I saw it, he was enjoying the game to the fullest. I can no longer recall on whether or not his team won during that game but one thing sure, whether or not the scores favored him does not matter as the happiness of being in the game was apparent in his face.

If my memory prove me right, it was in February 1995 that I learned that we had then our new parish priest in the Holy Cross Parish of Alubijid, Misamis Oriental in the person of that barefooted basketball player at Saint John Vianney Theological Seminary covered basketball court. When the time of our vacation at the end of the spirituality formation year had come, I dropped by the parish convent to see him, he was glad to tell me that I would be obliged to help in the parish activities. There I learned what is meant by the phrase that there is no vacation in vocation. Indeed I had a full hand during that summer and in the two summers more that followed.

I can remember one occasion when he celebrated mass in Lourdes, Alubijid, Misamis Oriental, his service motorcycle broke down so we had to walk seven kilometers to the Poblacion. He carried the red backpack that contained the mass kit which was relatively heavy for me while I was carrying some things that were much lighter than his cargo. It was his custom to pray the rosary while walking and by necessary, I have to do the same thing as he did. I was looking most of the time on the ground and not raising my head up by the time we reached an uphill course when we had already negotiated some three kilometers going by way of the Barrio of Benigwayan. Perhaps it was because of his longer limbs or perhaps more so because of his fast gait, I noticed that I was no longer able hear him recite the hail mary and that was also the time that I know that he was already way ahead of me. He was such a good hiker.

It was also in Lourdes, Alubijid one Sunday evening after the mass that we were invited by a family for the usual dinner served for the parish priest. There were three of us then as my former co-seminarian Elizer Tinoy had accompanied us. The food was next to sumptous especially so that there was roasted native chicken on the table. The appetite was even made good by the fact that we were then hungry. Me and my companion were on the way to consume everything on the table when we felt the tap on our wrist and the priest saying almost in a whisper in vernacular: “Hinay-hinay lang kay wala pa makakaon ang tagbalay (Take it slowly for the hosts have not yet eaten).” I was a little bit surprised but later on, as I go over and over the situation, it made me feel that the man had his thoughts on the welfare of others too.

During those years that I was active in the parish works, I noticed very well how he lived the life of poverty even if the parish can afford to feed us with the good food. The staple of the parish was not rice but corn grits – that was yellow corn which was and which is still the cheapest staple. He was eating the staple of the poor people of his parish. He could not have eaten this kind of food in the United States but he learned to eat what the people of his parish had to eat. Not only that, he also learned the language of the people by heart. He was a fluent speaker in Visayan so that one time, according to him, federal agents had detained him for some hours in Hawaii because he spoke Visayan to airport authorities. These people suspected that he was speaking Russian and so they subjected him to some interrogation.

Whatever personal information I have of him was scant as I was not keen on asking personal information on the one very well respected. As far as I can remember, he came from a place near San Antonio, Texas. From a family of fishermen, he studied medical technology at the University of Idaho, he volunteered in the peace corps, came here in the Philippines, assigned at Lourdes, Alubijid, Misamis Oriental and became a fisher of men.

The talk of the place in Lourdes was that he was not a religious man as they saw him before. He served in the peace corps and whenever he had which he readily had, he would be drinking tuba in the barrio market and whenever he had much of it, he use the table as his stage and there dance to the fill of his happiness to the delight of the onlookers. However, the man was not amused to reminisce this things. One time I opened it up to him, I can see the embarassment of his face so that I never mentioned it again to him. He said he stopped doing it since he decided to enter the seminary and had not tasted wine except the one that is used in the mass ever since he decided to do so.

His decision to become a servant of God was first opened up to the late Reverend Father Francis Chapman who was then a parish priest of Alubijid. There was no explanation how he came up with the decision to do it but the important thing was he did it and he made to the priesthood which was a thing that I never achieved. He became a diocesan priests of the Archdiocese of Cagayan de Oro and became a member of the Society of Saint John Vianney.

His simplicity was contagious. I learned to walk barefoot during the those times that we had the matinal station of the cross at Lourdes where he assigned me to assist deacons during the lenten seasons. I learned not to complain and to take whatever was available that the community had to offer. I learned to walk miles during the time that there would be no available vehicle to ferry me back to the parish convent and sometimes did it even when a vehicle was available out of the love of it.

When the time came that I was forced by circumstances to be out from the formation program in the year 1997, I caught sight of him at Saint Patrick’s House beside the San Jose de Mindanao Seminary. I told him my predicament which he readily listened. He told me the things that I ought to do and did everything of it even if it was against my will. I had a high respect for the man and remain to have it even this time.

Even when I was no longer a seminarian, he still made me feel that I was very much a part of the parish. He still gave assignments and made me active in the youth sector. During election periods, he influenced me to become active in the Parish Pastoral for Responsible Voting especially in the Political Education Program that helped me acquire skills in public speaking and in convincing others to do what is ought to be done. I was given the opportunity to deliver the last word in the Siete Palabras which I still held in high steem even during this time.

However, just like his favorite basketball game, everything has to come to a close. The last time that I have a contact with him was when I was about to be married. I had not even a time to say goodbye to him and say thank you for everything that I had learned from him and for the past favors that he had given me. One of these things was that it was in his office in the convent that I learned to use computers. He was such a tech savvy priest and he used it effectively in his ministry. I also learned that the reason why he played barefoot was that he was flatfooted and he would be out of his balance if he wear shoes during games. Perhaps that was also the reason why he preferred to wear leather sandals.

Ans so I learned some things about how the man balanced everything in his own simple ways in his life. Yes in his life that like a game of basketball have its own onset and have its own end. On the thirtieth (30th) day of May 2012 when the priests at the Columban House in Singalong, Manila opened the room where he stayed to remind him of his flight that day to San Antonio, Texas where he planned to have a three months vacation, they discovered the lifeless body of the dedicated servant of God. He had died more than twenty four (24) hours from the time of discovery finally resting his life in the mighty hand of God whom he served the best part of his life. He was buried here in the Philippines at near noon on June 4, 2012 attended by throngs of faithful that he served during his ministry after a funeral mass attended by the clergy and laity and presided over by Bishop Juan de Dios Pueblos of the Diocese of Butuan.

In here I am writing my final salute to one of the men who had made an important imprint in my life and who touched my life in one way. If there were no men of the cloth who had a dedicated service to the people of God like him, I could have left the Catholic Church for good, but no. I believe that there are still many Joseph Schwegmann there wearing the untainted white cloth of the men of God who truly served him and his people. And for us living mortals, may we be able to emulate the example of life of service which father Joe had readily shared to all of us who came to know him in one way or another.

REQUIESCAT IN PACE.

The Holy Cross Parish at

Alubijid, Misamis Oriental, Philippines where Fr. Joe had first realized that he was called to a life of service

Latest portrait of the late priest