Thanks ttitopao for posting this at the BP Forums, i felt like i need to post them here because that a mentor (Padre Roque) and a musical inspiration (Fr. Mano) were the ones who wrote these essays. Indeed, Fr. Honti's ways are edifying.
Fr. Roque Ferriols, SJ
Oratory of St. Ignatius, Loyola House of Studies
In the Society of Jesus there are certain people who appear and disappear in your life – depending on the vagaries of the assignments you receive. You begin to take it for granted that they will always be near. They are like fixed stars that are so present that you do not notice them. Whey they suddenly pass away you realize that you have lost a friend.
The early Jesuits referred to themselves as a company of friends in the Lord. In his quiet loyal way, Father Eddie was – is a friend in the Lord to all of us. Memories of Father Eddie are now flooding my mind and I will share a few of them.
Father Eddie, Father Jess Diaz and I took our first year theology in St. Mary’s, Kansas. There was a steep slope in the Theologate golf course. Eddie was one of the few brave souls that learned to ski on that slope. I remember seeing him coming in, his face red from the cold raw air. I admired his courage but was unable to imitate it.
Years later we were in Baguio for a province retreat. I had to be rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery. Eddie accompanied me. Before I was wheeled in the operating room, I asked him to hear my confession. Across the years, I remember his words of consolation and I am grateful for them.
St. Augustine says that to sing is to pray twice. Eddies has filled our churches with people who pray twice. They love to pray singing melodies composed by Fr. Eddie. Eddie’s music is in the style of Ilonggo folk music. He loved the music. He loved the people who created the music. He learned from their music and spread their style throughout the world.
Eddie loved to talked, he loved to sing, and he loved to laugh. In the last years of his life he could not sing, he could not talk. All he could pronounce were a few words, but he could still laugh.
And he lived life with zest. He communicated animatedly using the few words he could pronounce and gestures. He composed music using a computer, and he laughed. He so alive and cheerful that we sometimes failed to notice, the courage with which he embraced life. He was cheerful. He spread his cheerfulness to the people he lived with. That is the word I will use to describe Eddie: Courage.
He spent time everyday praying before the Blessed Sacrament, that was the source of his courage. He loved to live life with joy at a time when physical energy to him was in diminishment and inspired courage in others.
We thank God for giving us Eddie as brother and friend.
Fr. Honti: A Most Sublime Song to God Fr. Manoling V. Francisco, S.J.
January 16, 2008
Sometimes the dearer a person is to you, the more difficult it is to speak about him or her. This is precisely what I feel now trying to condense into a few hundred words the immeasurable significance of Fr. Honti for all of us...
Gentle Spirit. Fr. Honti was a gentle spirit. His brother Alex admits that he and his brothers bullied little Eddie and got him into trouble with their Mama. Fr. Revs attests that Fr. Honti was, like the Blessed Virgin Mary, born without original sin.
In 1991, Fr. Honti suffered his first stroke, which paralyzed his right hand and impaired his speech. Nonetheless, Fr. Honti’s mind remained lucid, spirit indomitable. Fr. Herb Schneider tells me that even after his stroke, Fr. Honti would hie away with Fr. Herb, Fr. Calderone, Fr. Pat Giordano, Fr. Roger Champoux to a beach house in Matuod, not so much to pray or recollect, but to play bridge. And despite his stroke, Fr. Honti remained a top notch bridge player.
Having a lucid mind, Fr. Honti, despite speech therapy, had been unable to express himself beyond “Ok”, which he would utter with his endearing laughter and “the Lord be with you,” which he would agonizingly enunciate. It certainly must have been frustrating for him to have a clear and active mind, yet not be able to express his thoughts and sentiments. And yet, not once have I seen Fr. Honti cranky or depressed.
Every now and then, Fr. Honti would visit me in the Jesuit Music Ministry Office and we would play a game of charades. He would grunt and lift his hand, and I knew he wanted me to do something for him. One afternoon, as he entered our office, I asked him, “Fr., man or woman?” He replied, “Woman.” To which I further asked, “Sister or lay?” “Sister,” he answered. Then I enumerated all the religious congregations for women I could think of: “RVM, Cenacle, FMM, RA, RGS, MMS…” “MMS,” he repeated and smiled. Whew, but that was only the first part of the game, because the next part required me to enumerate all the MMS sisters I knew. So finally, we reached a union of minds, “Sr. Vicky at EAPI!” Finally, I identified the person he wanted me to contact. But then, the last part of the game was the most difficult. “So, Fr., what about Sr. Vicky?” He grunted, raised his hands and expected me to read his mind. “Do you want me to invite her to LHS for a meal?” He shook his head. “Oh, maybe you want me o invite her to watch a concert with you?” Then he smiled from ear to ear.
But sometimes, despite our long and tedious game, I would not be able to decipher what he had in mind. He would scratch his head and I would feel so bad. “Fr. Honti, let’s do it all over again.” But he would motion me and signal me not to fret and he would console me with a single word, “Ok,” short for “That’s alright.” And he would walk out of our office with nary a sign of frustration or desolation.
Sabi nga ni Pina Asiatico, “Si Fr. Honti, hindi yan marunong magalit.”
Humble Genius. Secondly, Fr. Honti was a humble genius. Fr. Revs writes:
He was always very gifted: not only in composing music, but in putting together things like electric organs, utility gadgets, etc., developing and printing photographic films, playing chess or playing the accordion and the organ; solving crossword puzzles; conceptualizing scholastic philosophy and theology; getting top marks in IQ tests, etc.”
To which Larphy, Pilar Ignacio, long-time accompanist of Fr. Honti adds: once, as the curtains were about to be drawn to signal the start of the concert, Fr. Honti continued to hover above the piano, tuning the strings. And to which Rowena, registrar of LST, validates: “Siya lang yung dean ng LST na hindi nakasubsob ang mukha sa mga libro at papeles, kundi nagkukumpune ng tape recorder at ng radio.”
Despite his many skills and talents, Fr. Honti never called attention to his giftedness. Unlike other artists who become overly protective of their works, Fr. Honti remained detached from his songs. Larphy narrates:
Fr. Honti and I have been collaborators since we started having concerts in 1974. Once when we were teaching the Barangka choir one of his new compositions, they could not get the notes right no matter how many times we practiced. What Fr. Honti did was to change the notes according to how the choir sang it. He said that if the choir didn't get it, chances are the general public wouldn't be able to sing it the way the notes were. So he followed the choir.
Despite the genius that he was, Fr. Honti remained unassuming and self-effacing. Tita Remy Ignacio remembers Fr. Honti serving quietly, bearing difficulties, and never calling attention to himself.
Twenty-seven years ago, Fr. Honti requested Tita Remy to chaperone 35 teen-agers from Pansol who were performing in several towns in Bikol. “We had no [private] transportation. We took the public bus from town to town. Fr. Honti was so tired waiting for a bus to go to another town. He sat on a sidewalk while waiting, finally we agreed to hop in the bus even if it was full. He was seated on sacks of rice. He was very tired then, but never did he give up.
Indeed, Fr. Honti remained indefatigable. After his stroke in 1991, he went through a period of distancing himself from music and songwriting. Noticing that he did not have a CD player in his room, I asked him if he wanted one. He shook his head. I asked him if he wanted a small keyboard. He again shook his head. I insisted that JMM could easily get him a small keyboard for his room. He consistently refused my offer.
A few years later, there he was in our tiny JMM office with a sheaf of new compositions that he wanted encoded. The last years of his life, he had no qualms allowing me to correct his works, “Fr. this note clashes with the chord you assigned; perhaps you meant this note.” He would nod at every suggestion. And when I would finally play his new composition on the clavinova, he would laugh and cry at the same time.
The humble master songwriter had no qualms being taught and aided by his young apprentice.
Insistent Lover. Third, Fr. Honti was an Insistent Lover.
Every few months, Paulino Pe, Fr. Honti’s former student at the Ateneo de Zamboanga in 1949, would give Fr. Eddie a gift check for a lauriat for twelve people at Peach Blossoms. Pina was our events coordinator. She would text Fr. Honti’s girlfriends: Temay, Larphy (whenever she was in town), Sr. Bubbles, Sr. Lulu, Tita Remy and a few of us Jesuits. Pina narrates: “kahit available lahat, kapag di ako puwede, sasabihin ni Fr. Honti, ‘No, no, no, no, no.” And so Pina would have to text everyone again and reschedule the dinner. That was Fr. Honti’s way of telling Pina how special she was to him.
Similarly, Risa Hontiveros-Baraquel texted me earlier today: “He baptized every one of our four children even after his stroke in 1991, joyfully baptizing them, then laboriously but devotedly signing their baptismal certificates.” At times, Fr. Honti was very insistent in doing things his way, but it was always to let others know how much he cared for them.
This afternoon I bumped into Sr. Bubbles at the LRT station. We started exchanging stories about Fr. Honti, wiping away our tears, as throngs of people passed us by. One day, Sr. Bubbles narrated, she received a call from Fr. Honti. “Imagine,” sabi ni Sr. Bubbles, “despite his condition, ang tapang niyang tumawag sa akin?” It turns out that Fr. Honti wanted her to visit him in LHS. As they met at the lobby, he grasped her arm and led her to his bedroom. “Hala, Fr. hindi ba bawal ako umakyat diyan?” But he was insistent. He showed her a picture of his during his younger years and asked her to scribble a dedication at the back where other friends had done so earlier.
The next day, she received a letter. And on the page were scribbled large letters in a child’s handwriting: “I love you, Fr. Honti.”
I encountered the insistent Fr. Honti many times. The last time was during the most recent homecoming in San Jose Seminary in November, 2007. As with many gatherings, I would sit beside him, serve him and slice his meat and vegetables for him. In the middle of the program, he rose from his chair. “Fr. Honti, are you going home?” “Yes,” he replied. How did you get here? Who will take you home?” He signaled that he was walking back to LHS. I told him that I was accompanying him. He signaled that I remain seated. Because I insisted he could not go home unless I chaperone him, he relented. After climbing the steps from the San Jose covered courts to our driveway, he motioned me to return to the party. He was worried that I would miss the program at the homecoming. As we reached the steps of Loyola House of Studies, he motioned me to take his umbrella. I told him it was only drizzling outside and that I did not need an umbrella. He refused to go up to his bedroom until I accepted his umbrella. Knowing he would not take no for an answer I took his umbrella and kissed him goodnight. He held me in his arms. If ever Fr. Honti was stubborn and insistent, it was always to let people know how much he cared for them. That night, somehow I knew that Fr. Honti would not remain with us much longer.
The Mystic’s Laughter and Suffering. I know a good Jesuit homily consists of three points; however, permit me to add one last reflection on the mystic’s laughter. The saints speak of the beatific vision as an indistinguishable interwovenness of laughter and tears. Fr. Honti was constantly laughing and crying at the same moment. Whenever a choir would sing for him, he would laugh and cry at the same time. Whenever we told him how much we loved him, he would unabashedly laugh and cry simultaneously. Before Christmas I told him that Pia, his newscaster-niece, had invited me to preside over the Eucharist during their clan’s Christmas gathering and that I had told Pia: “Anything for Fr. Honti.” Fr. Honti laughed and cried. Before their clan Mass, I whispered to Fr. Honti that in order to make everyone especially happy that Christmas, I would preside and he would preach a one-word homily: “Alleluia.” He laughed and cried so hard.
I suppose only the mystics are able to see the infinite value of little acts of kindness. For Fr. Honti, little acts of affection and charity shown him overwhelmed him emotionally, as though our little deeds of kindness were the greatest acts of love.
His Person, a Song of Praise to God. I last spoke to Fr. Honti the night before his massive stroke. During the reception at the Final Vows of Fr. Tony de Castro and Fr. Pedro Walpole, I served Fr. Honti. I brought him a plate of lechon and offered him one slice, and just one tiny slice. To my amazement, he refused. The next morning, January 4, 2008, Fr. Honti was found sprawled along the corridors here in LHS. He had suffered another stroke that left him comatose. He never woke-up.
While he has written so many memorable songs, his very person, is certainly the most sublime song he has offered to God. Gentle spirit, humble genius, insistent lover and mystic who laughed and cried constantly, Fr. Honti, we love you and together with you in heaven, we sing:
Ang puso koy’ nagpupuri, nagpupuri sa Panginoon
Nagagalak ang aking espiritu, sa ‘king Tagapagligtas 
