(1952-2004)

Father Manuel was born on February 19, 1952 at Alcaudete (Spain). He was the son of Miguel Collado and Constancia Granados. In 1978 he entered our Institute in Zaragoza. In 1981 he made his religious profession and in 1985 he was ordained to the priesthood.
Shortly before ordination he wrote to Father Giuseppe Inverardi, the Superior General, expressing the thoughts that filled his heart with enthusiasm but also trepidation. “The responsibility of being a missionary in Brazil weighs heavily upon me. I ask the Lord to give me strength, understanding and the ability to live up to my calling: to be a living witness of the Gospel, a genuine sign of Christ’s saving presence - he alone was sent by the Father. I try every day to rely on the Lord and ask him to help me carry out this mission, day by day, minute by minute in every situation. Let me be entirely frank – I don’t believe this will be an easy task for me. On the contrary it will be difficult but I will trust in Him who has called me by name to be his follower.”
In 1986 he was assigned to Brazil where he worked for three years as assistant pastor in Nova Aurora, Jaguarari and Monte Santo. Shortly after his arrival while studying Portuguese in Brasilia he wrote to Father Giovanni Zinni, the Regional Superior, “I am beginning my priesthood, my journey as a priest and a missionary and I realize that I must live my vocation in depth, giving myself always joyfully … I have no special plan: I will hope and try to be leaven for renewal. I trust in the Lord and pray that I may live my life as his follower.” (April 28, 1986).
He experienced the social problems in the Northeast with great intensity: the government had completely abandoned this area – there was no water or other utilities. He asked himself what more the Church could do in these circumstances. He supported the struggle of the most vulnerable and promoted the work of the Diocesan Pastoral Commission.
In 1990 he returned to Spain where he devoted his efforts to vocation and mission promotion in Valladolid and Zaragoza. In 1996 he returned to the missions, in Venezuela where this time he worked for three years at Paraguaipoa, Guarero and among the Indians in Guajíra.
He wrote to Father Trabucco, the Father General, “Following the example of the greatest teacher of all times, Jesus of Nazareth, and of the Church in whose name I have been sent, I make every effort to understand and appreciate the very special culture of the Wayú Indians. I do this quietly and unobtrusively without trying to impose my ways or gain easy converts. I try to see them in the context of their own world, traveling with them across the steppe, experiencing their shortage of water, light and hygiene. I offer consolation and stand with them at the graves of young men whose lives have been cut short by vendetta or murder by defenders of the established order. I feel the need to know and love the natives of Guajíro …The enormous problems and challenges I encounter require all my resourcefulness. Facing an uncertain present and a questionable future we men and women of the Church must exploit our skills with imagination and generosity, placing our trust in the mystery of the resurrection. In this mystery we see how God continues to love mankind. May the Easter experience illumine our lives so that we too can be bearers of light.”
In 1999 he was appointed Delegate Superior of Venezuela. He gave up this office a year later for reasons of health – he was having problems with his heart and his lungs.
He returned to Spain and went to live in Madrid where he became the director of the periodical “Antena Misionera.” Simultaneously he was very much involved in regional mission promotion. He recently took part in the anti-hunger campaign Manos Unidas. He was suffering from bronchitis that turned into pneumonia. He was apparently responding well to medical care in the hospital but on the morning of March 7 he was found dead in bed. The doctors diagnosed a heart attack.
Father Manolo was a genuine shepherd – his heart was open to everyone. He was cheerful and spontaneous; all who knew him loved his simplicity and winning ways. He was always ready to assist in any mission project. He believed in the community and in the friendship of his confrères.
The funeral was celebrated in his hometown on March 8. The Episcopal Vicar of Jaén presided; all of his Spanish confrères and many diocesan priests attended the service. I preached the funeral homily. Missionaries acted as pall bearers and carried his coffin to the cemetery where they shared their affection for Father Manolo with his relatives.
Father Alvaro Palacios
and the Editors of Da Casa Madre


TESTIMONIAL

La procesión va por dentro
Before our time together in Venezuela Father Manolo and I had already met and become acquainted in Spain. In 1977 he was involved in vocation discernment and I was a novice. Sixteen years later he was a promoter in Saragozza and I was working in formation at the theological seminary in Madrid. We met briefly on a few occasions but this was enough to instill mutual respect in spite of our very different personalities, experiences and ideas.
With a few well chosen words we could describe each other; these descriptions were right on target without being stereotypes. Each of us granted the other the greatest freedom and never intended to offend. We were not exactly friends nor were we really well acquainted but we had taken each other’s measure. For one like myself who was eager to learn Spanish well listening to Father Manolo was an introduction to the riches of the language of Cervantes.
In 1995, I was in Madrid when Father Manolo received his assignment to Venezuela. In the days that preceded his departure for Simon Bolivar’s country, Father Manolo had two very happy and meaningful experiences: his retreat at Certosa di Pesio and the months he spent in the Holy Land tracing the Lord’s footsteps. Years later he would happily recall those long-ago events. His memories went beyond the recollection of specific times and places and included feelings of gratitude to the Father General and the Institute for having given him this chance for renewal, for improvement. “Just think of it. Father General covered all my expenses in the Holy Land!”
Father Manolo appreciated the gratitude, affection and confidence others showed towards him. They encouraged him to do his very best as a missionary and as a man. This is neither a criticism nor a complaint, it is the simple truth. I believe that support and encouragement helped him become a better and more enthusiastic man and missionary.
As a child he spent long periods bed-ridden suffering from heart disease. He had a congenital heart ailment that never left him and eventually caused his premature death. He worked as a clerk in a hardware store and only discovered his missionary calling when he was mature and betrothed to be married. For him the missions were a beautiful, rich and meaningful adventure. The implications of this adventure became clearer with time when he was deeply and lovingly involved in missionary work.
We met again and this time as co-workers in Paraguaipoa. It was March 1997. The third member of our community was the lay missionary, José Francisco Jimeno. Father Manolo arrived in the Venezuelan outback a year before me and was the pastor of Guarero. I took his place in Guarero and he could finally move on to Paraguaipoa. To say the truth, for both of us, the prospects in that strip of land bordering Colombia, were no good. Three months earlier, the Institute had proposed to the Archbishop of Maracaibo to take over “our” three parishes of Sinamaica, Guarero and Paraguaipoa. On my arrival it was the turn of Sinamaica to be handed over to the local clergy, while for Guarero and Paraguaipoa it had been agreed to wait for another year. We felt like sand being blown in the wind in this barren outback but still we lived together cheerfully and comfortably, sharing with the people the dreams of gospel solidarity and the rock of our faith.
Easy money, bribes and smuggling had destroyed the roots of this society; it was not difficult for missionaries to let things remain as they were. Our shared faith allowed us to unmask and laugh at so many plans and projects that were tempting and to some extent normal in the prevailing circumstances.
Father Manolo did not live in the outback for a very long time but those two years took an immense toll on his health. He plunged into every new project with passion paying little attention to his health or his ability to see things through to completion. His enthusiasm carried his people along with him. On at least three different occasion he had serious health problems that caused concern for us and for his doctors. He did not recover quickly. At that time I was pastor at Guarero and Superior of the Delegation. Coming back to the Paraguaipoa community I had to be firm with him on several occasions. I ordered him to slow down and see doctors in Maracaibo or Caracas. The local health services which he preferred were poor and inefficient. Going to them was a waste of time and money.
At the slightest signs of improvement he would jump back in the driver’s seat and with José Francisco’s help would plunge back into work. In both Guarero and Paraguaipoa Father Manolo never hesitated to become involved in manual labor. He would work frenetically until he was exhausted. He was in the front line of battle when grassroots groups struggled with politicians or authorities trampling on their rights. He was involved in denouncing corruption and raising consciousness. He was a friend to everyone in trouble, quick to condemn dishonesty and equally quick to share the joys and sufferings of his people.
Many came back to the Church and attended the liturgies he so meticulously prepared and organized. His homilies addressed real problems and contradictions which he interpreted from a Gospel perspective. He was unflagging in visiting even the most remote villages. When necessary he would travel in military helicopters or with police escorts in areas made dangerous by smugglers and gang rivalry.
Leaving the Wayúu caused him great pain and left an open wound in his missionary spirit. He kept in contact with people in the outback. These were people who had come to him with the problems of their lives and the world they lived in. They continued this contact by correspondence when he moved to Caracas and later Spain.
While his conduct and demeanor won the hearts of many people he alienated others. I knew Father Manolo and can affirm that he was well aware of his own limitations and shortcomings. He was determined to correct these problems and if necessary ask pardon of those he might have offended. Our not infrequent disagreements never led to misunderstanding or hostility, rather our friendship, mutual understanding and respect for each other grew.
Once the parish from Paraguaipoa had been handed over we found ourselves together at Delegation headquarters in Caracas. He was responsible for managing the house and taking charge of vocation/mission promotion in the national capital. His physical problems increased and he lacked his former energy but this did not stop him from meeting people and carrying out his assignments. After the 1999 Chapter he was named Superior of the Delegation but deteriorating health made him give up this post shortly after his appointment. Doctors advised him to go home as soon as possible I was in South America at the time and we traveled back to Madrid together on April 8, 2000.
He often repeated a phrase I will never forget: la procesión va por dentro [The procession comes from within - what is inside counts more than appearances]. Externally we can give the impression of being brilliant, self-assured, hail-fellow-well-met, but internally that may not be the case at all. When he gave every indication of being in good health, sure of himself and successful he would say: That may be true but la procesión va por dentro! Internally he was well aware of the limitations imposed by his sickness and occasional inability to persevere. He was worried about his mother Constancia’s health as well and would have liked to help his sister Fuensanta care for her.
During those early months of examinations and therapy in Madrid we were in frequent contact. He was grateful for the support of his confrères in Spain and for the grace of a good Lent in the Jubilee Year. “In a word I thank the Lord who is allowing me to live in peace in a community where I am made to feel welcome … I thank him too for allowing me to experience during these holy days of Lent and Easter what St. Paul wrote: I can do all things in Him who gives me strength. They send me telephone and e-mail messages from Venezuela. People are showing me more affection than I deserve. I am living a new life – a totally singular experience. During Lent 2000 I mounted the cross – I touched it, felt it in all its rawness. I am ever more hopeful and convinced that it will carry me through to Easter.”
He then gives a brief account of the confrères passing through Madrid that he has met and admired. He wrote to me again in September that year: “They are still sending me telephone and e-mail messages from Venezuela, Guajira, Mozambique and Brazil … these are consoling. But I am living a new sort of life. Sickness has had a profound effect on me. I would say that there is a NEW MANOLO! I thank the Lord who continues to be at my side – kind, merciful and CONSOLING. At this time my only desire is to LIVE as he would wish me to, a life of intimacy and free-giving. I trust Him to see me through each moment, each event … José Francisco Jimeno got married – it was a very Consolata occasion. I spoke to him; I didn’t go to the wedding, I told him I preferred to experience it in silence and recollection – he understood.”
He was asked to take charge of our Regional House in Madrid and to become the editor of the missionary periodical Antena Misionera. He accepted both these assignments, he wrote, well aware of his limitations and the fact that he was “illiterate.”
We met for the last time in Madrid at the beginning of this year. We were both aware of the poignant situation. I complimented him on his work as community superior and editor of the periodical, but … “la procesión va por dentro.” He was calm but aware of his limitations and the burden of responsibility. His mother had died a few months earlier. This saddened him but he believed the Lord had heard his prayers – she had died before him and was waiting for him in Paradise. He would have liked to travel through the country and preach on the missions – on justice and solidarity.
He managed to do this the following month – February. I wrote and wished him a happy 52nd birthday and he answered: “I have been preaching in three dioceses on behalf of Manos Unidas! in the press, on radio and television in Jerez, Huelva and Cadiz. It was an interesting if overwhelming experience. Who would have believed four years ago that I would manage to live so long … everything is a grace from the Lord of the Missions …grace and peace, much peace.” A few days later he was in the hospital and then he died.
“La procesión va por dentro.” This proverb became the key that opened our hearts and inspired our mutual confidence. We were able to speak frankly and reveal our real thoughts. We were pilgrims striving to master ourselves, to keep from giving up. To recover as best we could from past errors. To avoid deceiving ourselves or compromising our ideals or vision of the missions. We would reach our goal: the Lord. “La procesión va por dentro.” When I think of Father Manolo this expression immediately comes to mind and I treasure it.
For many years now when I pray to my Guardian Angel I see the faces of those missionaries who have loved and helped me – my own angels. Father Manolo is one of those faces.
Father Giano Benedetti