Reflections on Br. Benedict's Death
A Eulogy for Br. Benedict by Florentino T. Timbreza, Ph.D. Philosophy Department
According to the Great Preacher, in all aspects of life
under the sun, there is a time for everything and everyone: "There is a
time to be born and a time to die... there is a time to be happy and a
time to be sad, a time to be together and a time to part."
On
July 7, 1927, a man was born into the world. Then in January 3, 2004
the same man had reached his time to die. As a Christian brother, he
died single as 76 years ago he was born alone.
That man was
Br. J. Benedict FSC, a man who was alone in his dreams, but who, because
of his lifetime services and sacrifices, was always in the company of
friends and colleagues.
In fact, it was during his 42 years
of service at La Salle that Br. Ben had ample time to be together with
others, a time to be happy, to crack jokes, to laugh and to smile. But
now, that man is gone forever. That's why for us his friends and
coworkers, this is "a time to be sad and a time to part."
Br.
Ben had no children of his own but the high school students then
(1959-1963) and the college students later (1963-1971) had been the
sustaining source of his joy and inspiration. While still alive, he had
no sisters and relatives in town, but over the years, La Salle
employees, faculty members, alumni, and administrators had been his
constant allies and companions.
Thus, Br. Ben was never alone
because of his undying friendship. He was never alone because of his
sincerity and concern for others. He was never alone because of his love
for service. And never was he alone because of his obsession for
continuous improvements in tertiary education.
It is
precisely because of Br. Ben's unique qualities that we at La Salle are
going to miss him. We are going to miss his commanding, booming baritone
voice, his unassuming smile, twinkling eyes, his humble act of walking,
his mild ways, his tight handgrip, and his indisputable integrity as an
individual.
Most of all, we are going to miss his selfless
loyalty and commitment to his one-and-only university, that is De La
Salle.
For a period of 42 long years in the Philippines, La
Salle, for Br. Ben, was a University worth loving and worth serving. And
as it turned out now that he is dead, La Salle was a University worth
dying for!
For Br. Ben, school service, be it administrative
or teaching, was a form of self-giving, a giving of self, a giving of
life, and a life of giving. That is to give and give until there was
nothing more to give until death.
If only for this reason,
with Br. Ben's demise, we have indeed lost a good friend and colleague,
and La Salle has lost an efficient, thoughtful, and an indefatigable
administrator.
In a different vein, the unexpected death of
Br. Ben reminds us once more about the disturbing question that is life
itself: Human life is feeble, frail, and ephemeral. Man is born to
suffer and, finally, to die!
Once again, we become aware of
the short span of human life, of the fact that without our will we are
born and against our will we will surely die, and die before our loved
ones or they before us, and there is no comfort in either case, except
pain and suffering.
Glory, affluence, fame, and social
positions or status are meaningless in the face of an impending death.
The latter renders man's tremendous efforts and strivings useless and
meaningless and apparently a waste of time and energy. To labor away
one's whole life but never see the result, and to be utterly worn out
with toil but have no idea where it is leading, is this not lamentable?
Everything is only for a day, you will soon die.
Death does
not discriminate against anybody. It does not choose its victims. It
knows no gender, age, financial status, or social positions. Death is a
great equalizer, a leveler of all men, as it plays no favorites at all;
it is a life grabber, a cruel thief that robs an individual of his life.
Last year, in
one of the rare occasions that I greeted him on campus, "Hello, Brother,
how are you getting along nowadays?" With his characteristic guttural
baritone and winking eyes, Br. Ben replied, "Well, everything is under
control, except that times flies and man dies."
Truly enough,
time flies and life is too short to be spent and wasted in petty
bickering over trivialities. Death hangs over us and the measure of an
individual's life is a point, for after a moment he will soon be under
the grass.
Our life is but for a while, hence we must take
advantage of it; we must live it well and productively, lend a hand to
others, like Br. Ben, we shall soon be six feet under the ground. All
things soon pass away and become a mere tale after us.
Throughout all the vicissitudes of teaching, research, and academic
struggle, amidst life's roughs and tumbles, triumphs and failures, its
joys and pains, let the following lines of a Levi Celerio-composed,
favorite song be the source of our constant and sustaining inspiration.
Ang ating buhay/
Maikli,
aking hirang/
Kung kaya't kailangan/
Pagsuyong
wagas kailanman.