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Hope in Agdao
Can anything good come out of Agdao?
House of Jubilee brings sunlight to notorious slum
By Called and Sent Staff PHOTO GALLERY
DAVAO, Philippines -- Gary Bernadas knows he should be dead.
Most of his old barkada, or gang, already is—victims of streets shootings. Gary was in line to join them before he came to faith in Christ six years ago.
At that time, Gary and his barkada were pulling typical street punk stuff—shoplifting convenience stores, drinking beer, sniffing Rugby glue. Then one day they were walking down a street here in Agdao, a rough neighborhood in the Philippines second-largest city. They saw two young women playing guitar and singing in front of a maternity clinic.
The boys, most of them in their early teens, stopped to listen. The women—two missionaries who were visiting Canadian missionaries Patrick and Inneke Elaschuk, who worked at the clinic—struck up a conversation. They invited the boys to a dinner they were hosting.
Free meals in Agdao aren’t easy to come by. The boys accepted.
After that, Gary’s barkada started to hang out more at the clinic, maybe for the free food, maybe to meet some of the girls working there. As Inneke delivered babies and counseled mothers, Patrick began sharing the gospel with the boys. Almost all of the barkada, including Gary, accepted Christ soon after.
That clinic, Mercy Maternity, would move out of its building in December 2003. The Elaschuk’s ministry, Hope for the Nations Philippines, moved in immediately after that, though the Elaschuks had no full-time ministry to do there and wouldn’t get officially registered with the government until November 2004. But in the mean time, Patrick held Friday night Bible studies and Saturday night worship services at what Hope for the Nations began to call the House of Jubilee.
Those studies and worship services eventually turned into a growing list of community outreaches highlighted by:
At the house, Patrick (a youth pastor from British Columbia) led the boys through Bible studies. The group prayed together. They ate together. They walked through drug rehab together.
Gary’s conversion brought more than new digs and new habits. Hope for the Nations staff encouraged him to finish high school, which he did in 2002. Gary also helped found a youth group that would lead more than 100 kids to faith in Christ over the next four years.
“Before, I was rebellious to my family,” says Gary, now almost 20 and finishing his final year of nursing school at Davao Doctor’s College. “It was hard. Every day I had this bitterness and anger.
“Suddenly everything changed—my perspective towards my parents and brothers and sisters, even my friends,” he says.
Gary was the first member of his family of seven to accept Christ. Now, everyone in his family has.
Meeting needs of body and soul
Variations on Gary’s history of drug and alcohol use are common in Agdao. Poverty and despair are, too—so much so that the area was once known as “Barrio Patay”—the Place of the Dead—says Jun Bringas.
“Back in the early ’70s or ’80s, when you said ‘Agdao,’ people here [in Davao] got scared,’” says Jun, 39, a staff member with Hope for the Nations. “It’s a very tough area.” Jun’s father led a church in Agdao for many years, an experience that gave Jun a front-row look at the community.
Bad habits in his youth also help him identify years later.
“I used to use drugs then,” Jun confides. “I used to hang out with these kind of people, so I understand their level.” Jun recently had one boy from a bad family situation staying at his house. That boy, like Gary, kicked his Rugby habit and gave his life to Christ through the help of the ministry.
Jun asked the boy what had changed. The boy said the difference was that he now knew God and felt the love of Jun’s family.
“I’ve never felt that kind of love before from my parents,” the boy told Jun.
“That’s the main problem of the street kids, especially these young people,” Jun says.
That’s why Patrick and his staff value mentoring their teenagers in the faith and training them to be leaders while they feed and educate them.
Patrick says the ministry comes down to empowering new leaders. Doing that requires spending a lot of hours with a select group of young people, mentoring them and teaching them how to be godly leaders.
“And as they’ve matured, they’ve started to pour them lives into others,” Patrick says. “That’s really what makes this work.”
House of Jubilee brings sunlight to notorious slum
 | |
|
Gary Bernadas
|
DAVAO, Philippines -- Gary Bernadas knows he should be dead.
Most of his old barkada, or gang, already is—victims of streets shootings. Gary was in line to join them before he came to faith in Christ six years ago.
At that time, Gary and his barkada were pulling typical street punk stuff—shoplifting convenience stores, drinking beer, sniffing Rugby glue. Then one day they were walking down a street here in Agdao, a rough neighborhood in the Philippines second-largest city. They saw two young women playing guitar and singing in front of a maternity clinic.
The boys, most of them in their early teens, stopped to listen. The women—two missionaries who were visiting Canadian missionaries Patrick and Inneke Elaschuk, who worked at the clinic—struck up a conversation. They invited the boys to a dinner they were hosting.
Free meals in Agdao aren’t easy to come by. The boys accepted.
After that, Gary’s barkada started to hang out more at the clinic, maybe for the free food, maybe to meet some of the girls working there. As Inneke delivered babies and counseled mothers, Patrick began sharing the gospel with the boys. Almost all of the barkada, including Gary, accepted Christ soon after.
That clinic, Mercy Maternity, would move out of its building in December 2003. The Elaschuk’s ministry, Hope for the Nations Philippines, moved in immediately after that, though the Elaschuks had no full-time ministry to do there and wouldn’t get officially registered with the government until November 2004. But in the mean time, Patrick held Friday night Bible studies and Saturday night worship services at what Hope for the Nations began to call the House of Jubilee.
Those studies and worship services eventually turned into a growing list of community outreaches highlighted by:
- A feeding and personal hygiene program for about 100 neighborhood children.
- A biblical business course that helps about 90 neighborhood families save money and earn interest on it through part-ownership in a co-op store on the House of Jubilee property.
- Hope Education Center, an informal education program using a Department of Education curriculum to educate out-of-school youths.
At the house, Patrick (a youth pastor from British Columbia) led the boys through Bible studies. The group prayed together. They ate together. They walked through drug rehab together.
Gary’s conversion brought more than new digs and new habits. Hope for the Nations staff encouraged him to finish high school, which he did in 2002. Gary also helped found a youth group that would lead more than 100 kids to faith in Christ over the next four years.
“Before, I was rebellious to my family,” says Gary, now almost 20 and finishing his final year of nursing school at Davao Doctor’s College. “It was hard. Every day I had this bitterness and anger.
“Suddenly everything changed—my perspective towards my parents and brothers and sisters, even my friends,” he says.
Gary was the first member of his family of seven to accept Christ. Now, everyone in his family has.
Meeting needs of body and soul
Variations on Gary’s history of drug and alcohol use are common in Agdao. Poverty and despair are, too—so much so that the area was once known as “Barrio Patay”—the Place of the Dead—says Jun Bringas.
“Back in the early ’70s or ’80s, when you said ‘Agdao,’ people here [in Davao] got scared,’” says Jun, 39, a staff member with Hope for the Nations. “It’s a very tough area.” Jun’s father led a church in Agdao for many years, an experience that gave Jun a front-row look at the community.
Bad habits in his youth also help him identify years later.
“I used to use drugs then,” Jun confides. “I used to hang out with these kind of people, so I understand their level.” Jun recently had one boy from a bad family situation staying at his house. That boy, like Gary, kicked his Rugby habit and gave his life to Christ through the help of the ministry.
Jun asked the boy what had changed. The boy said the difference was that he now knew God and felt the love of Jun’s family.
“I’ve never felt that kind of love before from my parents,” the boy told Jun.
“That’s the main problem of the street kids, especially these young people,” Jun says.
That’s why Patrick and his staff value mentoring their teenagers in the faith and training them to be leaders while they feed and educate them.
Patrick says the ministry comes down to empowering new leaders. Doing that requires spending a lot of hours with a select group of young people, mentoring them and teaching them how to be godly leaders.
“And as they’ve matured, they’ve started to pour them lives into others,” Patrick says. “That’s really what makes this work.”
New life, new outlook
Gary, once the kind of drug user who gets himself shot in Davao, is a prime example. When he’s not busy with school, Gary helps with ministries such as House of Jubilee’s feeding program for small children in Agdao.
He and his family, with a little financial help from House of Jubilee, also have opened a small food stand in their squatter village serving ginangang—barbecued bananas smothered in butter and sugar. The stand makes about 150 pesos ($3 U.S.) a day to supplement the family’s income.
“The first day, I went to the market to buy all the stuff, bananas and everything, and I showed my sister how to do it,” Gary says. “I told her she can probably have a salary. We did it together. It’s fun.”
Hope for the Nations Philippines has run its ministries, sometimes without a startup budget, largely on the donations of short-term teams that it hosts in Davao. What it needs now is consistent budget so that it can plan ahead instead of just reacting to the needs of the moment.
“The ministry has really run on the miraculous from its conception,” Patrick says. “The most unlikely people have given chunks of money just hours before we needed it. We’d like to be more stable. We could make more strategic, long-term decisions and even be better stewards of the money we have.”
Gary and kids like him couldn’t be happier about the results so far, though.
“I got to know God, and life was much better,” he says. “God is an awesome God, you know?”
He and his family, with a little financial help from House of Jubilee, also have opened a small food stand in their squatter village serving ginangang—barbecued bananas smothered in butter and sugar. The stand makes about 150 pesos ($3 U.S.) a day to supplement the family’s income.
“The first day, I went to the market to buy all the stuff, bananas and everything, and I showed my sister how to do it,” Gary says. “I told her she can probably have a salary. We did it together. It’s fun.”
Hope for the Nations Philippines has run its ministries, sometimes without a startup budget, largely on the donations of short-term teams that it hosts in Davao. What it needs now is consistent budget so that it can plan ahead instead of just reacting to the needs of the moment.
“The ministry has really run on the miraculous from its conception,” Patrick says. “The most unlikely people have given chunks of money just hours before we needed it. We’d like to be more stable. We could make more strategic, long-term decisions and even be better stewards of the money we have.”
Gary and kids like him couldn’t be happier about the results so far, though.
“I got to know God, and life was much better,” he says. “God is an awesome God, you know?”
© 2006 Called and Sent Magazine. All rights reserved.