BIS #1392 - FR JOSEPH MOJA'S FUNERAL

Joaquim D’Souza sdb ROME, JUNE 5, 2009: Fr Chrys Saldanha and I travelled by train to Milan on the 28th morning to attend the funeral of Fr Moja. From Milan, Fr Piergiorgio Placci the Vice Provincial, Chrys and I proceeded to Orino for the funeral. Orino is a small town in the province of Varese in the pre-alpine hills. As you climb up the winding road by car you see little villages and towns amidst a lot of greenery and in the distance the snow-covered mountains of the Alps. It is a very beautiful and picturesque sight. From these lovely surroundings came very many vocations to the priestly and religious life and among them several missionaries. Of course, in those years before the war, life must have been much more difficult than now for the people. Though things have changed and become more comfortable and convenient now, you don’t see a lot of young people and children around anymore. The young people have moved to the big cities for work, and the children have become scarce. Mostly old people have remained behind. We reached the little parish Church of Orino a little after 2.30 pm. The Church was open and a few parishioners had come early to pray. The sealed coffin, covered with flowers and wreaths, had already arrived that morning from Arese, where Fr Moja had died, and was in its place in the sanctuary. Everything was prepared and ready for the funeral at 3.30 pm. Little by little the people kept trickling in. The Parish Priest, Fr Emmanuele, a young priest in his mid forties, greeted us and explained the procedure. I was to preside and say a few words of introduction and Fr Chrys to give the homily. The Vice Provincial would present us to the faithful. We were eight priests at the concelebrated mass – five Salesians: Fr Marchesi, as old as Fr Moja himself, and one who had been with Fr Moja in the concentration camp and had worked in North East India, together with another priest from Arese, the Parish Priest, the former Parish Priest and another priest from one of the surrounding parishes. It was a simple Eucharistic celebration, but rich with meaning and memories for everyone present. The mass was celebrated – as is the custom in this small parish Church – facing the high Altar with the back to the people. It reminded me of the time when I was a young altar boy and the mass was celebrated in this fashion in Latin in the old days. Fr Chrys preached a touching homily, drawing mainly from Fr Ivo’s tribute to Fr Moja which appeared in BIS Mumbai. I could see the people paying rapt attention to his words. There were tears in some people’s eyes. The little Church was full with about a hundred people. There was the younger brother of Fr Moja, Carlo by name, in his eighties but still vigorous, and his family. There was the Mayor of Orino with the colours of the country strapped across his shoulder, representing the town in official presence. The Mayor, in the name of the town, had graciously borne the expenses for the entire funeral service. Fr Moja was well loved in this place, where he was born and had spent his childhood, from where he had left for the missions, and where he regularly returned to for his vacation. The people affectionately called him Padre Pino, a diminutive of Giuseppino, and that is how he will be remembered in the hearts of this simple people of his hometown. After the mass and the last blessing of the body, the coffin was taken in a hearse to the parish cemetery some distance away from the Church. We could not accompany the body of Fr Moja to its burial place, as we had to leave to get back to Milan in time for me to catch the evening train to Rome. We chatted awhile with some of the old ladies who stayed behind, who recounted their experiences and remembrances of good Padre Pino, the missionary from a faraway country who used to tell them such wonderful stories of his adventures and of the people and children he had come to know and love and serve in his long life. As we took leave of them and wound our way back to the bustling city of Milan in the peak hour of the late afternoon, I imagined Fr Moja regaling his little crowd of rapt listeners with stories of Shillong and Dehra Dun, Panjim and Sulcorna, Pune and Mumbai, and of every other place Divine Province had led him to. Thank you dear Padre Pino for the gift of yourself to us. You have finally come back home from where you had started your life’s journey. God give you rest and joy in his loving embrace.