Funerals are sad affairs, difficult celebrations of separation—and enduring union. So I always find the opening rites of the funeral liturgy consoling. All human beings die. As Fr Danny did after a lifetime of formation and service as a Jesuit in the Philippines, concluded by years of painful suffering at the Jesuit Health and Wellness Center (JHWC). He had fought the good fight, he had run the race, he had kept the faith (cf 2 Tim 4:7).
The sensitive love in the noontime of his life had become tough love in its twilight and dark night. Now in death he is covered in the white pall signifying the new life in Christ that vanquished death and our shared hope in the eternal life that Christ won for him. The sprinkled water reminds us of our baptism, through which we were immersed into the suffering, death and resurrection of Christ. The bible signifies the Word that brings us eternal life, and the Word that Fr Dan studied, contemplated, prayed over, interpreted and communicated so consistently to students, teachers, faculty members, administrators, friends and confidants, even from his sickbed. And the Crucifix, the image of Christ uplifted on the Cross symbolizes the victory of Christ over sin and death, the image of the Suffering Servant before whom so many times in life, Danny knelt and asked, “If you have done this for me in love, Lord, what have I done for you? what am I doing for you? what ought I do for you?”
Those questions led him to Xavier University where he taught communication arts, Pilipino, socio-economics and chaired the communications arts department as a regent. Then, to Ateneo de Zamboanga where he chaired the department of religion and directed religious formation. Then, to Ateneo de Davao where he served as chaplain, student counselor, and assistant principal of the high school. Then, to Ateneo de Manila where he animated its Christian Life Community. Then finally, to Ateneo de Naga where his unflinching demand for discipline, rigor and quality conspired with his creativity in music, drama and the theatrical arts and enabled him to direct the new Digital Illustration and Animation (DIA) Program of ADNU.
He steered its unparalleled 3-D animation program to national prominence. It was awesome to work with Fr Danny: to witness how he grew the DIA program and how he coached his students through discipline and creativity, to achievement and success. Unto this end, in cura personalis, he spared neither personal difficulty nor treasure to help his digital animation family, especially in times of personal need or crisis. Last 30 Nov 2024, the Animation Council of the Philippines presented him a Lifetime Achievement Award for his singular contribution to the Philippine animation industry; even though he could not receive the award due to his illness and Ateneo de Naga could not attend because of the typhoon and floods that had just devastated Bicol. All public recognition now simply ad majorem Dei gloriam—unto the greater glory of God.
I always felt close to Danny. Our relationship started in the original Arvisu House on Katipunan Avenue in the early 70s, then led by Fr Agatonico Montero, when the oil portrait of Fr Teddy Arvisu was still new; I was Fr Monty’s assistant. Among the prenovices then were Jess Lucas, Vic Ibabao, Eric Nubla, Rene Biglang-awa, Alex Simbol, Harry Norris and Danny Isidro. At that time, Danny’s singing idol was Joe Mari Chan, and he would spend his spare time with his guitar singing his songs. Since Joe Mari and I had been erstwhile carpool mates before I joined the Society, we conspired to surprise Danny. Suddenly, Joe Mari was in Arvisu House singing to and with Danny, bringing him unforgettable joy. It was the beginning of a friendship for life for Fr Danny and Joe Mari. And part of the personal bond that locked Fr Danny and myself in friendship.
He came to the Jesuit Health and Wellness Center in 2019. Many years of heavy cigarette smoking had wrought havoc in his lungs, even as I recall how he forced himself to stop smoking around 2006. But the damage had been done. It became difficult for him to do what most of us take for granted—to breathe. When he moved about he needed oxygen. When he went to office, he needed oxygen. When he was in his room, he needed oxygen. In the Wellness Center, what was called chronic obstructive pulmonary disease made living for him and his caregivers very challenging.
Yet during those very difficult years he shared his pre-dawn prayers and reflections on scriptures daily with followers over the internet. Through the internet he connected generous people with needy persons. One young electrician who had been electrocuted while repairing high-tension wires was thrown off his ladder and paralyzed; thereafter, he was—as Pope Francis would say—discarded. Fr Danny reached out to him online and through the generosity of friends and relatives helped over years to nurse him back to health. Recently, from his sickbed, Fr Danny even partnered with his moderating class of 1980 at Xavier University to repair churches and build chapels for the indigenous peoples of the Bukidnon Mission District.
Many of you visited him, listened to him, wept with him, and did what you could do to comfort him—or secretly spoil him. When I would visit him, he would welcome me quietly, head bowed because of what seemed to combine panting with blowing; he struggled to communicate even as he had simultaneously to manually monitor his oxygen level, pulse rate, and breathing. As we would catch up on each other’s life, it was clear: he still loved the pansit bihon of Sweet Inspirations, preferred his chocolates without nuts, and rejected diet Coke for the real thing. My visits would always end with him giving me words of encouragement and a very personal blessing.
He was a blessing to us all. And even here breathes a silent word of encouragement to us all. May the breath of God now favor him with eternal rest.