The ‘saint’ of Cateel

He was not a Filipino but when he died on October 18, 1927, the entire town mourned, and when he was buried in the shoreline of Cateel, Davao Oriental, everyone was in attendance.

Fr. Jose Grimal, a Spanish Jesuit missionary, died when he was only 51 and was, at the time of his passing, spent 16 years in the mission. Born in Pozan de Vero, in Huesca, Spain, he spent four years at the Colleges of Barbastro and Barcelona before entering the Society of Jesus on September 7, 1892, when was only 15 years old. Early on, he was observed to possess humility and patience while attending to patients affected by the grippe epidemic in Tortosa. He was extremely zealous in tending to his patients without a moment for rest.

It was not until 1908 that he was ordained to the priesthood but was only sent to the Philippines, especially Mindanao, seven years later, initially assigned in Balingasag Misamis Oriental. He stayed briefly in the area because months later he received word from his superiors in Manila that he was assuming the Cateel post.

The Jesuit chronicles describe Cateel as “one of the hardest posts in Mindanao… surrounded by impenetrable virgin forests, and even from the ocean side the approach [was] not easy, especially the six months of winter.” But the padre was not dismayed by the challenges.

In following the sacraments, Fr. Grimal, on a monthly basis, would travel to nearby Baganga to go to confession. At one time, due to the weather condition, he had to wait four months before he could come. At the time, Baganga was reachable from Cateel in about nine hours. Brother Abril, a religious assigned in Baganga observed and noted Fr. Grimal’s routine:

“To take advantage of the morning hours, when the sun is not so fierce, he used to say Mass at four, and then, accompanied by a little attendant, he would make the trip as fast as his diminutive retainer could follow. When he arrived at our house or convento, he would narrate the incidents of the trip, always with that angelic smile that never left his face. On his return to Cateel, he always wrote us a letter of thanks, and told us his latest adventures on the road.”

In one incident. Fr. Grimal, on his return to his parish, had “to swim the river… ferrying his little squire across with him.” Brother Abril wrote: “His missionary work in Cateel was heroic. He sacrificed himself for his parishioners with a charity that knew no bounds. The schools especially were the object of his attention and he kept them going as along as he could, even incurring debts to keep well-paid teachers.”

Fr. Francisco Morey, SJ, confirmed Fr. Grimal’s story of poverty, stating that he “was a very mortified me and could get along on little or nothing. The convento or little house where he lived was so poor and destitute that frequently during the rainy season, he had to send the brother (Aixala) to get food from Baganga, because they were suffering hunger at Cateel. The priest was content with ordinary morisquieta (cooked rice) of the Filipinos. this, together with a little salmon or some sardines, constituted his whole diet.”

When Fr. Joaquin Villalonga was at Cateel as visitor, “all that Father Grimal could give him for a pillow was a sack of banana leaves,” astounding the visitor at such poverty that he later sent substantial alms from Manila to the parish so that the convent could be decently equipped.

Fr. Grimal, famished, sick of anemia, and exhausted, found himself hardly able to stand up to say the Mass. The Brother persuaded him to not offer the sacrament but dismissed it; he proceeded as planned. He received Jesus Christ in the Consecration which would serve also as his Viaticum. In the Woodstock Letters published in 1940, his last hours were described as follows:

“For when Father Grimal reached the sacristy, and took off his vestments, he could do no more. The brother brought a chair for him and into this the sick priest let himself fall weakly. Then sitting there with the familiar smile on his lips and the name of Jesus in his hear, he slipped off to Heaven to receive the recompense of his meritorious years.”

During his burial, “the entire town was around the grave, weeping and praying, unable to tear themselves from the father to whom they had been so close, who had cared their ailments, dispelled their doubts, settled their quarrels, pointed out the road to Heaven, administered the sacraments to them, fed them, and, when there was nothing else left to give, had given them his life. They dug his grave i the sand of the beach and to it with tears and prayers the poor people carried their priest. They walked in procession as though they bore the remains of a saint. And in that grave, hollowed from the sand, they deposited his body as reverently as relics in a reliquary. And this will be earth’s only monument to the obscure martyr of love, that mound of sand with its wooden cross on the shored of the restless Pacific.” (64)