black tarp flaps in the breeze as the Rev. Arnel Soriano, a priest on loan for the last three months from the Philippines, gives his sermon.

If you're at a pew on the periphery, the tarp is the only shade from the blinding late afternoon sun. Listeners laugh as Soriano seeds his homily with an occasional Tagalog word, momentarily forgetting they're sitting on aluminum chairs atop hot asphalt under a rusty tin roof in a parking lot. Between the laughs, roosters crow in the background.

Comfort is not high on the agenda of this makeshift sanctuary at the burgeoning St. Joseph Church in Waipahu; its building is being renovated to fit up to 700 people at each Mass. And if the 5 p.m. crowd last Sunday is any indication, it's going to need every seat.

Hawai'i's growing Filipino Catholic community has seen a host of changes in the last 25 years, including a cloudburst of leaders who understand the native tongues and old ways. That doesn't mean, however, that there haven't been growing pains along the way.

In certain ways, some say, it's a match made in heaven: Filipino Catholics bring a high level of devoutness to the Catholic church here. In return, parishes — especially those in Kalihi, 'Ewa and Waipahu — offer a "soft landing" for the recently arrived and a cultural oasis for their already-acculturated brethren.

That's the case at St. Joseph, where more than 75 percent of the Catholic parishioners are of Filipino ancestry. For some, even a wet Mass under a leaky tent (remember the 41 days of rain?) or this one, on a hot late afternoon in a parking lot, feels almost like home.

"It's like a family gathering," said Elizabeth Dalmacio, who drives to the Waipahu church from Kapolei nearly every Sunday.

She and her husband, Ron, both 34, married in this parish. This is where they've baptized their three children, the older two scampering around after the service with friends, or twisting around Mom's legs.

"It's the pride of our parish, the culture here," agreed her husband. "I feel the connection with Jesus here."

EARLY LAMENTS

The match between Filipinos in Hawai'i and the Catholic church hasn't been entirely easy, nor has it always been this way.

Catholics were notoriously late at the Filipino communal table, according to "The Filipinos in Hawaii ... The First 75 Years," a book put out by the now-defunct Hawaii Filipino News in 1981. Other missionary groups did a better job evangelizing the early Filipinos.

"The Catholic Church did not actively recruit Filipinos to minister to plantation communities," the book noted in its "Filipinos in Religion" chapter. It surmised the reason to be that when immigrants arrived from the Philippines, they were already baptized — part of the flock, as it were.

That's a lot of people to overlook, because the sheer number of Filipino Catholics is staggering: Today, about 85 percent of the population of the Philippines is Catholic, estimates the Rev. Mark del Rosario, local superior of the Blessed Sacrament Fathers and a former director of a seminary in the Philippines.

In the early days in Hawai'i, Protestants, such as the Congregationalists and Methodists, actively sought to recruit Filipinos. And some distinctly Filipino churches — such as the Filipino Federation of America, led by the charismatic Hilario Camino Moncado in the 1920s, or Iglesia Ni Cristo, another Christian church — also were set on luring them away from the Catholic Church.

However, as late as 25 years ago, while other denominations made some headway, Filipinos were still more likely to be Catholic than any other denomination, the book reported, thanks to the efforts of Monsignor Osmundo Calip, a former Philippine army chaplain who went about organizing a statewide mosaic of Filipino clubs here. Such culturally significant groups would keep the flock tethered to Roman Catholicism for years to come, feeding not only the appetite for Filipino food and company but nourishing their Catholic spirituality, as well.

PENDULUM SWING

Under the leadership of Bishop Joseph Ferrario, the church began to recognize a need for systematically ministering to its ethnic communities, said the Rev. Gary Secor, vicar for clergy for the Diocese of Honolulu, which covers all of Hawai'i. There has been a bit of the "we're here, come to us" attitude in Hawai'i's Roman Catholicism, but that seems to be changing, Secor indicated.

"The church is more aware of our need to evangelize than we have in the past, with all groups," Secor said. "People leaving to join other churches is a widespread phenomenon. Especially in the Catholic Church, we can become complacent."

However, Catholicism remains the dominant faith of Hawai'i. And not coincidentally, the diocese's Filipino ministry remains by far the largest of its ethnic ministries.

To care for that growing community, the diocese began tapping priests from the Philippines to lead flocks in Hawai'i; under Ferrario's successor, Bishop Francis DiLorenzo, those numbers increased exponentially (see numbers box, page D1). He started formal ties with seven Philippine dioceses, beginning in the 1990s.

This year will mark a turning point: By the end of summer, Hawai'i will have more "externs," or priests on loan from other dioceses, than it has active diocesan priests.

Secor was surprised by that tidbit.

"That's been a gradually developing reality," he said.

One of the early Filipino arrivals was Monsignor Edgar Brillantes, administrator at St. John the Baptist in Kalihi, only the second from his home diocese on loan to Hawai'i. He has been here almost seven years, a time during which his and other churches with a high number of Filipino members continued to grow. Most recently on the Big Island, for example, they've been petitioning the diocese for a priest who speaks Ilocano, Brillantes said.

PRIESTS ON LOAN

While the American church might be facing a crisis in vocations, the Philippines has priests to spare.

"While I've been here, (the Diocese of Honolulu has) had just one vocation," Brillantes said. "Our diocese (in the Philippines), we've had four, five, six new priests every year. That's how abundant the harvest is."

The news here isn't all dire. In Hawai'i, five young men are now on the road to priesthood, Secor said.

Religious vocations in the Philippines remain strong for a host of reasons. First, the political reason. After Ferdinand Marcos was ousted and the nation became independent, a cultural revolution in the 1990s sent hordes of young, idealistic Filipinos to convents and seminaries with the hope of making a difference, explained del Rosario, of the Blessed Sacrament Fathers.

Social and economic factors are also at play. Priests and nuns hold an elevated place in Filipino society.

"There's a pride, an honor in having a priest in the family," Brillantes said.

Also, in America, where the standard of living is high, people can become distanced from God, Brillantes said, but those in the poorest part of the Philippines rely more on their faith — and not just spiritually.

"Sending a (son to become a) priest is a savior for them," he said.

No one goes into the priesthood for the pay, that much is certain, yet Secor suspects that many of the priests from the Philippines who are on loan here use their relatively generous Diocese of Honolulu stipend to take care of families back home.

But it's "not that they're being sent here for the money," he said, though a Hawai'i parish sets aside some money toward its priests' retirement. That money is returned to the home diocese, and the Diocese of Honolulu occasionally tacks on an additional donation, Secor said, so it can be a mutually beneficial relationship.

PROBLEM AREAS

Being so far from home has its down side, some admit. Secor knows that the priests on loan from the Philippines are used to regular fellowship; coming to a new land with different ways can be difficult.

To counter the isolation, Brillantes said, the Filipino priests try to get together at least once a quarter, and del Rosario said many join Filipino clubs.

But many of these are highly educated men, some of whom speak at least four languages and adapt fairly easily. One of the new arrivals coming later this year is a priest serving as vicar general of his diocese, the No. 2 job, after the bishop.

They've also been thoroughly screened, Secor said. However, screening has not always kept problems at bay. Roberto Batoon, a Filipino priest who served at churches on O'ahu and Moloka'i, was sent packing in 2003 after allegations of sexual misconduct in the Philippines came to light.

Another problem area: There hasn't been a lot of orientation, said del Rosario, whose Blessed Sacrament Fathers order took over administration of Star of the Sea in 2004, after the Marist order scaled back its presence in Hawai'i.

He laughed when asked about his training here — "only about one or two hours to sit with the former pastor."

Secor said a better orientation program definitely is needed.

"That's a work in progress," the vicar of clergy said. "A lot of it comes informally. We're trying to get it formally."

One idea is to pair recently arrived priests with mentors who can show them the ropes, Secor said.

CULTURE CLASH

Del Rosario smiled broadly again when asked about what it was like being a Filipino priest in Wai'alae-Kahala, an area not known for its diversity. He knew some people at Star of the Sea, near Kahala Mall, had been apprehensive about their arrival.

"The Marists had been here 60 years, and all these foreigners were coming in," said del Rosario, who is one of three clergy from the Philippines joining the Rev. John Keenan in residence there.

"The first week I was here, a lot of people came for an appointment, already telling me what to do. I just listened to them. I was happy people were interested in the community.

"... All eyes were on us. 'Who are all these young people?' 'Will we be able to understand them?' "

Fellow clerics would report back to him about rumors or innuendos they heard; he told them to let it roll off them, as Jesus would.

Del Rosario met some resistance when making changes, such as moving statuary out of the altar area to be more "liturgically correct." He didn't let it deter him.

In his heart, del Rosario said, "I knew the Lord has called us to be here for a special mission. He wouldn't send us here unless it was important."

'COMING OUT OF THE WALL'

Today, del Rosario believes he's weathered the worst, and even managed to add a new dimension to Star of the Sea.

The church saw the advent of several old-country Filipino festivals, such as the Simbang Gabi (also called Misa de Gallo, or "Mass of the Rooster") in the early mornings before Christmas and the Santa Cruzan, a May Day festival complete with pageant and processions. For Easter, they did a special, Philippines-style stations of the cross.

"We want to facilitate our culture," del Rosario said.

The events brought increased visibility to Filipinos in the area. Now, del Rosario jokes, the Filipino parishioners "are coming out of the wall." Where there used to be just one or two, about 50 Filipino families actively participate at the parish these days, del Rosario said.

Others remarked on the growth of Filipino presence within the church throughout Hawai'i.

"When I was young, Filipinos were in the minority," said Estrella Estillore, secretary at St. Jude's in Kapolei. "Growing up, the Filipinos sat in the back. Then, as the church grew, they came out of their shell."

One strength of the Filipino Catholics, she said, is their devoutness, a sentiment echoed by Fred Carahasen, a deacon candidate at St. Elizabeth's in 'Aiea.

"From the old country, there's a strong, almost fanatical devotion to Catholic tradition, such as prayers to Mary," Carahasen said.

Both he and Estillore said that devotion, and the Filipino commitment to education, help both the Filipino and the Catholic communities.

"The church lets the Filipino community grow and expand as a culture within the church," said Estillore. "It lets cultural traditions express themselves and really draws the Filipino Catholics in. They say, 'Hey, we're all united.' "

Secor said the church is benefiting, too:

"In the last 25 years, the Filipino Catholic community in Hawai'i has developed a much stronger sense of its cultural and religious identity," he said. "And we in the local church have grown in the appreciation of the great gift they are to us."

Island Life is publishing occasional stories on the Filipino experience in Hawai'i in this centennial year. Go to www.honoluluadvertiser.com /islandlife for the series.