Columban student Lydio Mangao Jr on his venture through the streets of Bajos de Mena in Santiago, Chile - Photo: Lydio Mangao Jr
Each week, I hop on a borrowed bicycle and venture through the winding streets of Bajos de Mena in Santiago, Chile. My mission is simple yet deeply personal: to visit one of the nine chapels of San Mathias Parish, where I’ve been assigned as part of my First Mission Assignment with the Columbans. With each ride, I’m slowly learning the geography of this vibrant and often challenging neighbourhood. And when I sense that I’m near my destination, I always look up - searching the rooftops for a familiar sign: the cross.
That cross, sometimes small and hidden among buildings, is more than just a landmark. It’s a spiritual guidepost, reminding me that I am on sacred ground. It speaks to the presence of a gathered community, to people who come together in faith despite hardship and to the mystery of Christ who walks among them.
On the Fifth Sunday of Easter, I reflected deeply on this symbol. While the season of Easter proclaims the victory of the resurrection, the cross remains central to our faith. It is not a contradiction, but a profound truth: the cross is where love devours death. It is where pain, injustice and betrayal are not the final word. We experience the resurrection when we choose to love - freely, courageously, even sacrificially. Jesus gave us a new commandment: “Love one another as I have loved you.” That love is not theoretical; it is painfully real and possible in our daily lives.
As a Columban missionary in formation, I’ve come to appreciate that mission is not a romantic adventure. It is a path shaped by vulnerability, risk and trust. On the Vigil of Pentecost, I was reminded of this in a very tangible way. While on my way to one of the chapels, a man on a bicycle suddenly overtook me and cut me off. It was a tense moment and I feared for my safety. But in a twist of providence, a car honked loudly, distracting the man long enough for me to ride away. I thanked the Holy Spirit for that unexpected intervention.
These kinds of encounters remind me of the dangers here - not just of theft or violence, but also of the elements. The weather in Bajos de Mena can be harsh and I am often exposed on my bike. But these crosses - real as they are, are not the heaviest ones I carry.
What moves me far more deeply is the invitation to be present to others, to listen to their sacred stories and to witness their lived experience of faith. I have met parents and grandparents who pour love into their families despite poverty and illness. I’ve heard from children who care for aging parents and neighbours who reach out to each other amid conflict and need. These are stories of the cross - and of resurrection.
Some people share experiences of betrayal by those they trusted, even by Church leaders. And yet, they continue to show up. They still attend Mass, still prepare tea and coffee for visitors, still share the warmth of Hass avocados and homemade bread. In these acts of hospitality, I encounter the living Christ.
At first, I looked for the cross to find the chapels. Now, I see the cross in the lives of the people I meet. Their wounds and their resilience, their pain and their joy, speak of a faith that refuses to give up. They choose to love - despite everything. They love because they know they were loved first.
These encounters are not just touching; they are transforming. I carry these stories with me as I pedal from one chapel to another. I place them in the sacred space of my heart, knowing that only God fully understands the weight they bear. These are not just personal struggles - they are communal testimonies of grace.
As I continue this journey, I find myself slowly entering more deeply into the interior life of the Church in Bajos de Mena. It’s not just about arriving at buildings - it’s about being present to a people. My next assignment will bring me into closer contact with three basic ecclesial communities across three chapels. I don’t yet know what awaits me there, but I ride with hope, with prayer and with an open heart.
In all of this, I am reminded that the mission is not about fixing every problem. It’s about walking alongside, listening, sharing and bearing witness to the love that overcomes all things. It is about journeying - one cross at a time, one conversation at a time, one act of love at a time.
Your prayers and support are part of this mission too. Please continue to keep us in your thoughts. Let us pray for one another and remain united in the spirit of love and solidarity.
Columban student Lydio Mangao Jr is on his First Mission Assignment in Chile.
Listen to "One cross at a time"
Related links
- Read more from The Far East - November/December 2025
