Against the Dying of the Light

In the June/July, 1983 issue of Sojourners, Jim Wallis' "Marginal Notes" told the story of Karl Gaspar, a lay churchworker and well-known human rights advocate in the Philippines who in March, 1983, was arrested by the military and held in a detention camp in Quezon City. In May, Gaspar, still in custody, was transferred to the Davao Metropolitan District Command detention center. There, with 39 other political detainees, he participated in a hunger strike that ended six weeks later after authorities agreed to the prisoners' demands for exercise, visitation, and other rights (see "For the Record," October, 1983).

Near the end of the strike, Gaspar was transferred to the Davao City Jail, where he remains. Throughout his months in prison, Gaspar maintained a steady stream of correspondence with friends and supporters. Excerpts from his letters to Jim Wallis are printed below.
—The Editors

May 22, 1983

There is no doubt that the spirit of Christian community exists here, even if it is not consciously labeled as such by the occupants of the cells. There is an acknowledgment of the presence of God. Almost every cell has the sign, "God Bless Our Cell," made by the detainees themselves.

The image of Christ is pasted on the wall, and a few find time to read the Bible. But it is not the images and signs that solely manifest the sense of this community. It is in the concrete expressions of forgiveness, compassion, concern for one another, friendships that eloquently reveal the community spirit. It is the courage to face the uncertain future while holding on to common beliefs and visions of life. It is the warm embrace for each other's problems and concerns as they collectively hope that one day God in his goodness will release them from their captivity. It is in the firm belief that no matter how long is the night, dawn will surely come ...

On this the feast of Pentecost, I pray that the Spirit of truth and justice will continue to fill us with the fire of his power, so that we will always have the courage to be concerned for human rights, the commitment to serve the lowly and downtrodden, and the conviction of the prophets.

July 20, 1983

When I heard about your prayer for peace on Pentecost [in the U.S. Capitol Rotunda] and your subsequent arrest, you were out of prison already. I therefore missed the chance of praying for you while still in prison ... I felt a tremendous sense of solidarity with you when I heard the news ...

Yes, we are encouraged by such events, happening as they do in the very "belly of the beast." ... Wherever and whenever we hear of similar acts of protest and denunciation against those which contradict God's plan for humankind and the values of the kingdom (South Korea, Chile, South Africa, etc.), we in prison are very much encouraged. Somehow beyond the anguish of life behind bars, people of good will victimized by the same evil force of repression find refuge in the courage and strength of those who would "rage against the dying of the light." ...

You are out of prison now, but you'll come back. I am still in prison now, but even if they release me tomorrow, I might be back the following day. We are marked by the options we have taken, each in our own historical context. If we don't succumb to the temptations brought by fear and lack of belief in God's saving grace, we will continue to risk our necks. I pray that we and all those who are on the same journey can hold on to faith and courage and not be threatened by what brutal force can inflict on our weak bodies.

There were times in the early part of my detention when I was on the verge of giving up my commitment to follow the Lord among the oppressed in my country. Those were moments of near despair, when the spirit almost couldn't cope with the pressure. Thanks to the prayers and support of family and friends, and the loving encouragement of fellow political prisoners, I bounced back, re-charged.

While there is no full guarantee of a total commitment all the days of our lives, still I'll come out of this experience far more convinced that the only road to take is that which inevitably brings us to the cross. It is my prayer for you and those you love—all our kindred spirits—that you too can hold on to the concomitant grace of a genuine conversion, fully ensconced in God's hands, who will protect you from harm ...

August 25, 1983

I got a note from [a] student ... I remembered the time when she was just a 5-year-old girl and we first attended rallies and demonstrations in Manila in the pre-martial law days. I used to carry her. Now she's studying at the state university and ... is a committed activist. Her short note was an attempt to provide comfort and consolation ... She said: "Kuya, don't worry, we shall go on. Those in power rule now, but one day they will fall. One day we will be liberated!" Echoes of the magnificat coming from a 17-year-old girl, trying her best to provide courage in what is now a reversal of roles.

August 29, 1983

Today we remember the beheading of John the Baptist. It is also the day of prayer for Ninoy Aquino, the head of the opposition who was assassinated a week ago upon arrival from the States ... Aquino is not exactly a John the Baptist, but he too went through harassment, imprisonment, and now martyrdom ... Death continues to claim more victims in our troubled land ... There are times we're but a breath away from despair and hopelessness.

It takes tremendous grace to keep the faith and to trust in God's love for his people in the midst of the human misery, the agony, and death. But the blood being shed by our people, the contemporary Johns in our bleeding land, bring us back to a realization that beyond the passion is resurrection.

This appears in the November 1983 issue of Sojourners