FR NTIERS PHILIPPINE
NEWS & INFORMATION FROM PHILIPPINE FRONTIER MISSIONS • VOLUME 31 • NO. 3
IGNITING CHURCH PLANTING MOVEMENTS ACROSS GENERATIONS JULY - SEPTEMBER 2023 ISSUE
philippine frontiers is a quarterly publication by Philippine Frontier Missions and is sent free
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Philippine Frontier Missions, Inc. is a non-profit religious organization established in 1993 by Filipino SDA pastors and laymen, working in cooperation with the Seventh-day Adventist Church. MISSION STATEMENT: Philippine Frontier Missions establishes indigenous Seventh-day Adventist church planting movements among unreached people groups.
BOARD OF TRUSTEES AND OFFICERS Zenaida Willison Chairwoman John Holbrook President
VISION STATEMENT: A Seventh-day Adventist church planting movement in every unreached people group, beginning in the Philippines and expanding to the ends of the earth, resulting in every individual hearing the everlasting gospel.
Mary Rose Fabrero Corporate Secretary & Treasurer
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Cornelio Aba Bayani Agnazata Yoanes Sinaga Robin Willison Edwin Balila Board Members
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A native elder of the Alangan tribe of Occidental Mindoro, Philippines.
John Holbrook Editor
GCASH Aleni F. Cornejo 0917-603-1658
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STILLBORN
EDITORIAL
My name is Aton, and I live deep in the mountains of Mindoro in the Philippines. For centuries my people lived in slavery to the spirits that haunted us. That is until a missionary came to our village. He had been trained by missionary John, and He taught us to pray and trust in Jesus. The night my son was born, though, was the ultimate test of my faith. After hours of sweat and blood and pain, our child was delivered. I ran to get a sheet to wrap him in when a chilling cry cut through the air. “He’s dead!” Hearing our cries of despair, friends and family rushed to comfort us. For four hours we sat, unheeding of all that was happening around us. Finally, one of the village elders came to me. “It’s time to bury your child,” he said.” “Wait,” I said. “Don’t bury him yet. I remember now that the missionary told me to always trust God and to pray to Him about any problems that we have.” “Jesus,” I prayed, kneeling on the damp ground. “If it is Your will, please bring our child back to life.” My hand trembled as I reached out to lay it on our son’s little chest. He was warm! Calling my wife, I gave him a gentle slap on his back. To our unbounded joy, he took a deep breath and let out a beautiful wail! Today, I am the leader of the church here in the village of Hubkub. Because the missionaries taught me to pray and trust in trust in Jesus, my son is alive today and the people in my village know that He is the true God. Thank you for sending and supporting missionaries. Because of you, our lives have been saved! John Holbrook President PAGE 3 | PHILIPPINE FRONTIERS
HOLD ON! JOMAR MATAY • AETA 2 PROJECT
Little puffs of dust shot up through the hooves of the water buffalo as he plodded down the hill pulling our cart. The ever-present cicadas buzzed in the nearby trees, almost lulling my daughter Hadasa and I to sleep. It had been hard work loading the 8 jugs of water from the river. Now for a little relaxation as we traveled back to the worksite where the water would be used to mix concrete for the new church building. Just as I was drifting off into a pleasant dream, the cart bounced over a big rock in the road. The jugs jostled back and forth, slopping a liter or so of water down my back. Letting out a surprised whoop I pulled the water buffalo to a stop. “Here, Hadasa,” I said. “Hold the buffalo’s rope a minute. I’m going to cut some banana leaves to wedge into the jugs to keep the water from spilling out.” Cutting the leaves was only the work of a couple of minutes. I was just gathering them up to take back to the cart when I heard Hadasa’s little voice cry out, “Papa! The water buffalo is running away!”
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Dropping everything I bolted for the cart. The water buffalo had a head start on me, though, and I couldn’t catch up. I could hear Hadasa crying as the buffalo and cart hurtled toward a cliff. That section of road was so rocky and uneven that the cart bounced high into the air, several times nearly overturning and pinning Hadasa. “Hold on to the rope!” I yelled to Hadasa. “Hold on!” My strength was completely exhausted and I was no closer to catching the water buffalo. Finally, I fell to my knees in the middle of the road and cried out to God. “Please! Save my daughter!” Jumping to my feet again, I was amazed to see the water buffalo standing still. A man stood by his head calming him. Running up to Hadasa I grabbed her in my arms, praising God as I ran. The cart had come within a few centimeters of the cliff. At the speed that it had been going it should not have been able to turn before the cliff. Additionally, under normal circumstances a runaway cart would have overturned on such a rough road, pinning my daughter underneath or even killing her. But miraculously none of that had happened, and God brought someone to catch the runaway buffalo just as I knelt to pray. Sometimes God’s children are afraid to follow His command to go to the ends of the earth as missionaries. They are afraid of the dangers of strange and distant places. When God calls you, though, you can trust Him no matter where He leads and no matter what happens.
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LIFTING UP
HIS NAME CINDY NGAYAAN • BONTOC PROJECT
It was a bitterly cold evening in the mountains of Northern Luzon. Auntie Lita had just come back from a hard day’s work, and she wanted nothing more than to take a nice bath and crawl into a warm bed. The very thought of the frigid water waiting in the bathroom made her shiver involuntarily, though. “I think I’ll splurge a little tonight and boil a pot of water to warm up my bath,” Auntie Lita thought to herself. “I think I can afford the extra gas just this once.” In just a few minutes the big pot was boiling merrily on the stove and warming the kitchen. “This will be the nicest bath I’ve had in weeks!” Auntie Lita thought as she slipped on her oven mitts to carry the hot water to the bathroom. She must have been dreaming just a little about her bath, though. Somehow one of the mitts got too close the flame and before she knew it her hand was engulfed in fire.
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Startled and frightened by the fire on her hand, Auntie Lita forgot the heavy pot she was carrying. Instinctively, she slipped her hand out of the burning mitt and jerked away. The huge pot of boiling water spilled all over her bare feet, burning them instantly. Screaming in pain, Auntie Lita huddled on the floor. Her mind raced, would she be maimed for life? What could she do to ease the pain and heal the burns? She couldn’t afford to be seriously injured. Just then a strangely comforting thought came to her mind. Hadn’t the missionaries told her something about how aloe vera could help burns? And didn’t the missionaries always pray to God when they helped someone who was sick? next Sabbath. “I thank God, though, for what He has done for Gathering her courage, Auntie me. My burn is gone! I should be Lita hobbled to a nearby food suffering from 3rd degree burns stand that she remembered had right now but God used the tiny an aloe vera plant. The owner little aloe vera plant to heal me!” graciously gave her a leaf. With a prayer for God’s healing she When we see God answering the smeared the gel on her burns prayers of His children here in and went to bed. Bontoc we take courage. He is at work, and in His time He will “I don’t know if anyone will also answer our prayers that His believe me,” Auntie Lita said name will be lifted up among all when we saw her in church the the people of Bontoc. PAGE 7 | PHILIPPINE FRONTIERS
RAIN FROM HEAVEN GERALDINE GREGORIO • TAGBANUA PROJECT
I looked dejectedly at the sight around me. The field was dry and parched. It hadn’t rained in many months. We needed to plant our crop, though, if we expected a harvest. So, gathering our rice seedlings, we started to work. More than half of the people who passed by stopped and watched us with quizzical looks on their faces. Others laughed, while still others frowned at the strangeness of it all. Even some of the planters began to murmur among themselves.
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“We’re just wasting our time and energy,” they complained. Others moaned about how painful it was to dig seedling holes using pointed sticks rather than simply pushing the rice stalks into the mud like we would normally do. It was indeed hard work. We had to exert extra force to penetrate the stiff, solid ground. “Let’s do our best to plant all the seedlings today,” I encouraged. “Then it will be up to God to send the rain.” And God answered our prayers! Later that afternoon, a heavy rain poured down. We had claimed God's promise and had tasted the fruits of our labor and patience. Church planting movements are similar. The first few steps are sometimes so difficult that we want to give up. But God says, “Press on.” We need to simply do our best, following the missional principles that He demonstrated, and He will do the rest. Stay positive and trust Him fully.
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Along the River Path RONALD CANONOY • BANGON PROJECT
It was such a lovely morning that after I ate my breakfast, I decided to take a walk. A gentle breeze was blowing and the river was calm and quiet. I hadn’t ventured up to the mountain village in a couple of weeks so I decided to go and see my native friends up there. A few hours later, with the sweat now pouring off of me, I arrived in the village. Making my way to the chief’s house, I sat down and began visiting with him. As the afternoon wore on, I noticed people gathering around the house. “What is everyone coming here for?” I asked. “Oh, they come here every afternoon to play basketball,” the chief explained. “Playing basketball has become their favorite pastime.” I watched for a while, fascinated as these highland young men played basketball on an improvised court. It was getting late, though, and I had a long way to walk back to my hut. Saying a cheerful goodbye I started down the trail.
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As I walked I began to hear ominous rumbling farther up in the mountains. I had been so interested in the basketball game that I had forgotten about the daily afternoon rains. Hurrying the last few kilometers to the river I plunged in and started across. I was too late, though. Even as I slogged through the stream, stumbling over the rocks, the water began to rise rapidly in a flash flood. I don’t know how to swim, and even if I did, the flooded river was too powerful. “Lord!” I screamed. Three times I called out to God for help, and then everything became a blur as I tumbled over and over in the muddy water. The next thing I knew I was laying on the riverbank. To this day I don’t know how I got there. I know that I could never have swum across that raging torrent, nor escaped being bashed to death on the rocks. God saved my life, and I know that He saved it for a purpose. As much as I needed saving from the river, my Bangon friends even more desperately need Jesus to save them from their fear and slavery to the spirits. And so I entrust my life to God and carry on His work.
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MISSIONS REACHING REACHING THE THE UNREACHED UNREACHED IGNITING IGNITING CHURCH CHURCH PLANTING PLANTING MOVEMENTS MOVEMENTS ACROSS ACROSS GENERATIONS... GENERATIONS...
AETA AGTA BANGON BONTOC BUHID KALANGUYA KANKANAEY SAGADA TAGBANUA
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