Archbishop Oscar V. Cruz was born on November 17, 1934 in Balanga, Bataan. On August 26, he died from multiple organ failure caused by Covid-19 infection at age 85. He was the first Filipino Rector of San Carlos Seminary. He served as Auxiliary Bishop of Manila, Archbishop of San Fernando and later as Archbishop Emeritus of Lingayen-Dagupan. He completed his seminary studies at the University of Santo Tomas Central Seminary and earned his Theology at the Lateran University. He was also a canon lawyer. Cruz authored several books on religious subjects, which are well read by both the clergy and the lay people. He was an outspoken man of cloth who was an uncompromising nemesis of gambling, corruption and other social ills of the country. After his retirement in 2009 at the age of 75, he acted as the judicial vicar of the National Appellate Tribunal of Appeals in the Philippines.
He devoted his life to a crusade against gambling, particularly jueteng, which he described as a “veritable social cancer.” This illegal numbers game has funded political campaigns and a source of graft. “It foments indolence and dependence on luck.” He joined marches and rallies against gambling, corruption and supported land reform. He visited farmers as they camped outside the DAR Building and brought food to them. He celebrated masses with the poor and led their prayers. He denounced government officials, including the top military brasses that were protectors of illegal gambling. He had the guts to name them and in the process got sued. One time, he was issued a warrant of arrest but was released on bail when libel cases were filed against him after accusing the Philippine Amusement and Gaming Corp. of engaging its female employees as “guest relations officers” during the birthday celebration of First Gentleman Mike Arroyo. He did not mince words in assailing their depraved acts and would call them rascals in their faces. I recall a couple of congressional hearings where he served as a resource person where the subpoenaed ranking government officials would be fidgeting on their witness seats, discombobulated by his blatant assertions.
Archbishop Cruz did not spare his fellow priests from his crusade against venalities and corruption. Our holy men also suffer from human frailties like you and me. He exposed sexual indiscretions committed by these supposed holy men. He once said: “Ano sila sinusuwerte? Gagawa sila ng kalokohan tapos gusto nila solusyunan ng simbahan?” He wrote the “CBCP Guidelines on Sexual Abuse and Misconduct: A Critique” that serves as textbook on the subject. We can recall the earlier exposes he made against Monte de Piedad, a bank previously owned by the Catholic Church, when it suffered from a rush of deposit withdrawals in 1996. Some years later in 2003, a newspaper magazine published Bishop Crisostomo Yalung’s affair with a young parishioner. This was followed by an article dealing on the alleged sexual harassment complaint lodged against the venerable Bishop Teodoro Bacani. Even a revered institution like the Church has skeletons in its closet and they didn’t escape Archbishop Cruz’s condemnation. Archbishop Cruz would not hesitate to call a spade a spade.
When he was the president of the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of the Philippines , a dormant organization turned into a vibrant assembly of bishops when he took over its helm, Cruz was accused of irregularity as a man of cloth. The accuser called him names and one who was unworthy of his sacred calling. A press conference was convened at the CBCP office in Intramuros, Manila that the accuser with his lawyer and a couple of supporters personally attended. Quietly, Cruz also joined the conference and sat on the table together with his accuser. In the course of the conference, the charges were repeated by the person who allegedly had personal knowledge of the irregularity. Cruz just sat and listened stoically without saying a word. The conference was concluded without the accuser recognizing Cruz, who was seated almost next to him. Cruz’s silence spoke volumes, and he never taunted his accuser. The poor guy was never heard from again.
The Church is a tightly cloistered institution and is not known for its transparency and openness. While it admits its shortcomings, it’s slow in adopting reforms. When the wind of change finally blows, let’s not forget the whiff of reform that Cruz had brought.
In the words of Senator Francis Pangilinan, Archbishop Cruz was “an activist who fought against corruption and other wrongs of society not just on the pulpit but in the streets with the people. He lived out what he preached—justice, equality and compassion for the needy.” Cruz saw both the imperfections in and outside of the church, the clergy and the laity and their officialdoms, and he did not hesitate to blow the whistle. When President Duterte was still seeking the presidency in 2016, Cruz called him “a dangerous man and worse than a dictator.” Fear was not in his vocabulary. It was a heavy burden and carries a great amount of risks, but Cruz embraced his cross.
Bishop Soc Villegas, Cruz’s successor in Lingayen-Dagupan Archdiocese, eulogized his predecessor by writing on his Facebook: “He was a faithful shepherd. He was a courageous prophet. He was a brilliant canon lawyer. My heart is grateful that in this lifetime I met a great churchman like Archbishop Oscar V. Cruz.” We all are.