When? A deacon's examen

Last week I took four seminarians from our diocese to Tegucigalpa. It’s a long trip – at least six hours.

A seminarian from our parish had asked me and noted that the director of this first year seminarian program would give me the opportunity to talk to the seminarians about the permanent diaconate.

The four seminarians in the first year.

I started out early, after the Sunday morning 7 am Mass in Concepción, Copán. The trip went well, faster than I thought it would, partly because we took the back road from Intibucá, through Marcala. (It is actually a better road than the other route.)

We stopped for coffee near Yaramanguila and the owner of the café treated us to coffee. I had stopped here several times before and she was grateful. She also promised to get me asparagus for my return trip on Tuesday.

We arrived. I rested a little and then went to dinner.

The director, Father Freddy, asked me to speak after dinner and, though unprepared, I spoke for a few minutes. But we arranged for me to speak for a time on Monday night.

Monday morning I went with Father Julio Cesar, a priest of the Santa Rosa Diocese who is teaching at the seminary, for Mass with the seminarians from our diocese. I ended up preaching to them.

That night I preached at another Mass, this time to all the first year seminarians.

After dinner I met with them and made a few more remarks about the permanent diaconate. But mostly I left time for questions, which were quite good. Does a permanent deacon have a spiritual director? (I may have surprised them when I mentioned that it was a lay woman.) They were interested in what I do and I was happy to share.

After I mentioned that I am a rarity, a celibate permanent deacon, they asked me about celibacy. 

But sometime during the two talks I mentioned what I think should be part of the weekly examen of life of a permanent deacon: “When was the last time I was in the home of a poor person?” And, if I had not been for some time, I needed to make an effort to visit a poor person. 

I am convinced that this is an essential question for a permanent deacon, especially in mission territory.. If we are not in personal contact with the poor on their home turf are we failing to live out our vocation? 

Pope Francis is adamant on the necessity for all disciples of Christ to serve in the peripheries, in the margins, and to be in personal contact with the poor. As he wrote in his 2021 message for the World Day of the Poor,

“We are called to discover Christ in them, to lend them our voice in their causes, but also to be their friends, to listen to them, to understand them and to welcome the mysterious wisdom that God wants to communicate to us through them.”

We can and should listen to them when they come to us – whether they come asking for material help or come to participate in the church. 

But should we get to know them in their homes, where we are the guests? And should we be in their homes just to listen and be the recipients of their hospitality? 

We come into their homes not as authorities with gifts but as brothers and sisters with the need to be welcomed. 

I would challenge all of us followers of Christ to be so vulnerable as to enter a humble home as a guest – especially those of us who are deacons.

Corn and beans drying in a house in the village where I went on Good Friday.

It isn’t easy – especially for us who want to fix things, to make things right, to be in control. 

We come not to bring something – even just to bring the Eucharist. 

We must let ourselves be welcomed. 

When we do this we might learn something just sitting there, drinking a cup of sugary coffee with them. 

We might learn what love is.

Evangelizing: loving and listening

Notes for my homily November 4-5, 2017, Thirty-first Sunday of Ordinary Tome, Cycle A

Malachi 1:14b-2:2b, 8-10

1 Thessalonians 2:7b-9, 13

Matthew 23: 1-12

Clare washing the feet of her sisters

How often have we heard complaints against the church? We may have even made some ourselves. Some church leaders react very defensively, even if the complaints have some merits. I wonder how they would react if they took today’s readings seriously.

The readings, especially from Malachi and Matthew, are pointed critiques of religious leaders. Malachi castigates the priests for not promoting the glory of God and for being partial in their judgments. Aren’t we all equal before God, he notes, with the same Father?

Jesus condemns the religious leaders of his day for their heavy-handedness and their seeking power and prestige. They say one thing but do the opposite. In addition, they like to be called teachers and masters. Don’t be like them, he urges. Don’t call them masters; you are not their slaves; we are all brothers and sisters.

Paul, however, gives us an image of a true religious leader. “We were gentle among you, as a nursing woman broods over her children.”

 “With such affection for you, we were determined to share with you not only the gospel of God, but our very selves as well.” We religious leaders must be willing to give of ourselves, even giving up our lives.

To be great we must, as Jesus notes, “be the servant.”

But these admonitions are not just for religious leaders; they are for all of us. Pope Francis insists that all of us, by our baptism, are “missionary-disciples.” We are evangelizers, each in our own way – some as ordained ministers, others exercising other ministries in the church. But all of us in our daily lives are all called to be signs of the Good News of Jesus in the world.

I have seen this in the parish I serve in Honduras of Dulce Nombre de María, the Sweet Name of Mary, your sister parish in Honduras.

There is Marco Tulio, an extraordinary minister of Communion, who takes the Eucharist each week to a village for a Holy Hour, walks an hour each way, no matter the weather or hour.

There are the youth groups and others that regularly visit the sick in their communities and bring food to poor families. One catechist told me how the catechists have taken the young children to visit the sick – about 40 kids between 4 and 7. Both the sick and the children profit by this work of mercy.

Since October of 2016 our parish has sent missionaries out to the villages of the parish. These are not professional missionaries but members of the parish. They go out, two by two, to villages other than their own, without cell-phone, without money, dependent on the people they visit. They are missionaries of mercy, helping us discover the presence of the God of mercy in our lives, our families, our villages. They are more missionaries in the Gospel sense than I have been.

They do not preach. They are called to listen, to be the “ears of God,” as they visit homes in a village, especially the homes of the poorest, the ill, and the aged. They are servants of mercy, not teachers of doctrine.

We are beginning to see the fruits of these missionaries. The life of faith has been renewed in some villages.

But my favorite story comes from Plan Grande, where I live. During Holy Week the two women missionaries visited a couple who wanted to get married in the church. The couple was prepared and they were married outside their home in the company of many people who brought tamales and other food for the celebration, together with the couple’s children and grandchildren. They are both in their eighties and wanted to be right with God before they die.

Evangelizing is not standing on a street-corner haranguing people, though a public witness that shows the mercy of the God of justice has its place. Much evangelizing takes place merely by being there, accompanying people in times of sorrow and in times of celebration. We evangelize by who we are – children of a loving God.·

This evangelization offers the encouragement of a Christian hope – evangelizing not as masters or know-it-alls, but as nursing mothers serving others with love and tenderness.

In many ways, by your solidarity with our parish, Dulce Nombre de María, you are evangelizing.

As our pastor, Padre German writes in a letter to you, “thank you for your solidarity; with your generous help we are a parish which promotes the mission of evangelization and of charity with those most in need. You are Good News and from a humble silence you make present the Reign of God in our midst. And more: the manner you have of sharing and serving arouse in many of our parishioners the desire to give themselves. The tenderness of God is flourishing, as from their poverty they give part of their lives to assist the sick, the elderly, and the widows. Thank you, sisters and brothers, for evangelizing us through your charity.”

“You are missionaries,” Padre German continues. Noting my presence in the parish as deacon. “St. Thomas as a parish gets out to the farthest crossroads of the parish. There [our parish] is embraced and animated by the face of God; it is supported with the healing and liberating embrace of mercy; there the tears of those who are mourning are wiped away, helping them to contemplate the heaven of the resurrection in their passage as pilgrims from death to life, from violence to the ways of peace, from the walls of squalor and egoism to the bridge of fraternity where we celebrate together and share the table, with the tablecloth of solidarity and the providence of God. You are here with us, singing in our choirs, going with our missionaries of mercy, with our catechists and the children who share with us their desire to grow. Thanks for your part in our family.”

St. Thomas has helped subsidizing the costs of our parish where formation of volunteer pastoral workers is central to our evangelization. You have helped also with our Solidarity Fund which subsidizes the costs of serious medical and other needs. Buying El Zapote coffee helps an association of small coffee farmers. And in other ways you have been helping the Church be a servant of the poor. There is much more, but Fr. Jon wants me to limit this homily to ten minutes.

Our pastor, Padre German, welcomes your accompaniment of our parish of Dulce Nombre de María. Indeed, in his letter, he wants you to know you are welcome to come visit. You can count on a heartfelt welcome, “receiving, from the hands of the people, hot tortillas, refried beans, and the fraternal coffee of sharing and celebration…. Let us continue walking together, evangelizing, passing through the mire of pain, sorrow, and darkness, leaving on every face the divine spark which brings new life…. God counts on you and us.”*

In all this, we continue to pray for you and we ask you to continue to pray for us.

We continue to move forward in our mission of being servants of God’s people, not lording it over others, not laying heavy burdens on them, not failing to serve them because they are impoverished and without power.

All of us are called to be servant-missionaries, servant disciples, wherever we are. We are called to give of ourselves to others, especially those most in need – in whatever way we can. We are called to live as sisters and brothers in Christ.

Let this be our way of serving God, of being Good News, of evangelizing – here in Ames and with us in Honduras.

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· We evangelize by being holy. But, as Thomas Merton wrote, “the saint preaches sermons by the way he walks and talks, by the way [she] picks up things and holds them in [her] hands.

* “The parish, from its commitment and hope, awaits us.  We can count on the shelter of friendship, with hearts beating in many homes with a rhythm in harmony with the heartbeat of our Creator; we can count on the hands of the worker who offer you hot tortillas and ground beans as well as the fraternal coffee of sharing and celebration…. Let us continue walking together, evangelizing, passing through the mire of pain, sorrow, and darkness, leaving on every face the divine spark which regenerates – which God alone can do. God counts on you and us.”

The last day of November

Today we ended November in Plan Grande with the novenario of José Arnaldo Sánchez. There was a Mass in the afternoon and this evening many gathered in the house of his widow and children for the rosary.

I had gone to the velorio on the night after his death and the funeral Mass the next day. I had a visitor and so it was good for him to see part of the daily life of people here.

Arnaldo died as the result of an accident. I think he was examining a car when it tolled over on him.  After several days in the regional hospital he died.

I most remember him for the day he helped me to start my car when the battery was low. But I know his wife who is one of the village’s catechist and he was the brother of several of the men I know here, including the grandfather of my confirmation godson.

Funerals are times for prayer, but they are also social events, times for people to get together. People gather to pray in the house during the velorio, the wake. and for nine days until the novenario, the ninth day.

Padre German dropped by for the prayer during the velorio and for the funeral Mass. At the novenario, the people prayed the rosary and asked me to say a few words. I ended my short words with the Canticle of Simeon and the closing prayers of Night Prayer.

Then coffee, tamales, and chop suey were served to all – included the groups (mostly men) who were standing outside and nearby in the road. People will probably stay several hours to comfort the family.

At the novenario, as at the velorio, a five year old kid – Elmer Noé – attached himself to me. His father lives in a nearby town and he is the nephew of the widow. He also teaches in a nearby school.

Elmer Noé is a very affectionate kid who held my hand and sat on my lap for a while. He also held the hand of his great-grandmother who was seated in front of me.

He also is a sharp kid, knowing the prayers and songs. He even led the first decade of the rosary during the novenario.

He is not the only sharp kid I met today. After Mass, I heard someone playing the drums. I looked over and saw it was the 18 month old son of one of the musicians. What surprised me was how good he was and how much he enjoyed playing the drums – especially the cymbal. I encouraged his father to keep up the good work with him so that the child can develop his musical talents.

Between Mass and the novenario I had some time to work and eat dinner. My neighbor Gloria came by to ask a few questions about the coming meeting of communion ministers and to invite me to say a few words at the novenario.

As she left I noticed the sky in the west – a beautiful rose color, between the clouds and the mountains as the sun was setting.

It was a blessing to see the beauty, a sign of God’s presence here.

I recalled the sunset in my words at the wake, noting that God worked and shone in the life of Arnaldo – and this can be seen in his family.

All this is a reminder to me of the importance of being aware, with eyes open, to the many mysterious ways God shows his presence among us.

Sunday morning I shared another sign of God's loving presence among us as twenty-nine entered the catechumenate at morning Mass in Dulce Nombre. If they persevere, they will be baptized at the Easter Vigil.

The rite is simple - a welcome at the church door, a signing of the catechumens with a cross by their sponsors, and the handing of a bible to them. What always moves me is when the sponsors kneel before the catechumens to sign their feet with the Cross.

I spent some time with the catechumens that morning; I asked them to share what touched them during the rite. I then encouraged them to recall the significance of their sponsors kneeling before them. They are children of God; they are made in the image of God. The sponsors are kneeling before a sign of the presence of God, just as they might kneel before Christ present in the Eucharist in a tabernacle.

This message is important for so many of the people who are treated like dirt, as if they were worth nothing. They need to hear that they are children of God, of infinite worth. To have a sponsor kneel before them can be a moment of revelation - of God's infinite love for them.

As I write these words I think of Thomas Merton's famous revelation at Fourth and Walnut in Louisville, which can be found in his journals as well as in  Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander.

   In Louisville, at the corner of Fourth and Walnut, in the center of the shopping district, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all those people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers. It was like waking from a dream of separateness, of spurious self-isolation in a special world, the world of renunciation and supposed holiness. The whole illusion of a separate holy existence is a dream....   There is no way of telling people that they are all walking around shining like the sun.... There are no strangers! ... If only we could see each other [as we really are] all the time. There would be no more war, no more hatred, no more cruelty, no more greed.... I suppose the big problem would be that we would fall down and worship each other....

Would that we would open ourselves to worship the God present within all of us - made in God's image.

Going home with hope

God encourages those who are losing hope…

Sirach 17:20

I’ve been in El Salvador for the last five days, visiting friends and participating in the vigil and the beatification Mass of Monseñor Romero.

I am ready to go home – and to go home with hope.

I spent the evenings in Suchitoto at the Centro Arte para la Paz, a center founded and run by Sister Peggy O’Neill that seeks to promote the arts – especially music, dance, and painting –  as well as training in computers and violence alternative programs as ways to promote peace amidst the violence and poverty that plague the region.

 This week it was great to see music groups practicing, kids deepening their dance skills with some Julliard students here, working on computers. The center is doing a lot and has hopes to do more, especially in response to the challenges of violence.

I also got to see folks in Suchitoto and the countryside whom I know from my time here in 1992. It was great to see them - especially four generations of the Clavel family. I met the great grandfather - blind and 98 years old, and his blind wife, Edelmira, six of the kids, and many of the grand kids. I even got to see the fourteen year old whom I had held in my arms when he was hours old during a visit many years ago.

Getting soaked in the rain for the vigil on Friday night did not dim my joy at being there and hearing spirited singing of the hymns of Romero, the martyrs, and the faith that seeks liberation. The sharing of umbrellas and tarps was a great witness of the solidarity that Romero inspires. Later I found out that for some here in El Salvador the rain was seen as a blessing of God, commemorating Romero, since there has been little rain in May – when the rainy season usually begins.

Sharing the Mass of beatification with friends was a great joy, sitting alongside women religious who have been giving their lives for the poor – some in Chile, some in El Salvador, and some in Honduras.

Another joy was seeing and hearing the young people singing the songs with a lot of energy. I later found that in some schools the songs are taught as part of the curriculum, to remember the martyrs and the struggles of the people.

It was good, but I am anxious to return home since there is where I feel God continuing to call me, to accompany the people, to share the Good News of Jesus Servant and Liberator, and to help all of us be people of hope.

It’s a temptation to stay in El Salvador – but I am called to be where I see more poverty, less hope, and less solidarity.

And so I go home - with hope.

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Photos can be found here.

Other blog entries on my experience of the beatification include:

•       Which Romero?
•       The Holy Spirit and Romero
•       Vigil for Romero with the youth
•       Romero, father of the poor
•       How El Salvador formed me
•       Romero presente
•       Saint Oscar Romero of the Americas