Shaken in body and soul

Two years ago today I was ordained a deacon in the diocese of Santa Rosa de Copán, the first permanent deacon in the diocese and the third ordained in the country.

There were two moments in my ordination when I literally shook.

The first was during the litany of the saints. I have had a devotion to the saints since my childhood. They have provided me with inspiration, motivation, and challenge. During the ordination I was prostrate on the ground as the litany was sung. I found myself surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses. But between the invocation of Blessed Oscar Romero and Blessed Charles de Foucauld, my body shook.

The moment of ordination is when the bishop lays hands on the deacon. Later, a prayer is read. During that prayer I heard, as if for the first time, the bishop recall the first deacons and how the apostles “dedicated them to serve the poor” – “los dedicaron al servicio al servicio de los pobres”.  I shook, overcome by the calling, that has been central to my life for many years.

Today I wish to re-dedicate myself to my calling to serve the poor, which I cannot do without the grace of God and the presence of a cloud of witnesses sustaining me.

SCARCITY OR ABUNDANCE OF LOVE

“So, there’s only so much of the love 
you can spread around,
when your own family, an American citizen,
or an American veteran on a street 
is having trouble.”

 So said one US national news commentator recently, but she only reflects what is a deep problem in the US – a culture of scarcity. It is a spiritual crisis, because it fails to believe in the God of abundance, seeking security in what we have.

I have also seen any number of posts on Facebook castigating those who are crying out for immigrants and refugees for, supposedly, not responding to the needs of homeless, especially the children, in the US. I don’t think this is the case because many of those I know protesting the treatment of migrants have been involved in care of the homeless and advocacy for justice for the poor. And they’ve given time and money and some even years of their lives in direct contact with them.

But such opinions flow from a culture of scarcity that is based on insecurity and fear – the fear that there will never be enough for me. It is a belief that there is only so much to go around. But our faith is rooted in a God of abundance.

The paradigmatic Gospel stories for this are the varied accounts of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes to feed 5000 or 4000 men, not counting women and children. What’s fascinating in two accounts is the apostles’ complaints about how much money it would cost – two hundred days’ wages, according to Mark 6: 37 and John 6:7. And they remark that five loaves and a few fish are hardly enough, “What good are these for so many?”

The disciples are working from the logic of money and scarcity. Jesus, however, works the miracle since he is the incarnation of a God of abundance, of superabundance, which is to be shared among all.

Walter Brueggemann, in Journey to the Common Good, writing of the Pharoah, notes the connection between fear of scarcity and the common good.

Those who are living in anxiety and fear, most especially fear of scarcity, have no time or energy for the common good. Anxiety is no adequate basis for the common good; anxiety will cause the formulation of policy and of exploitative practices that are inimical to the common good, a systemic greediness that precludes the common good.

When we think only on how much I have our hearts are closed to the needs of others. We think that there is not enough compassion, love, or food to go around.

But the logic of God is very different. Brueggemann writes how the People of Israel in the desert discovered the alternative of God:

What Israel discovered in the wilderness—and again in the exile—is that there is an alternative. Indeed, it is fair to say that the long history of Israel is a contestation between Pharaoh’s system of paucity and God’s offer of abundance. Surely it is a legitimate extrapolation that the long history of the church is a contest between paucity that presses to control and abundance that evokes patterns of generosity. Beyond Israel or church, going all the way back to Erik Erikson’s elemental “basic trust,” the human enterprise is a contrast between scarcity and the dreaminess of abundance that breaks the compulsions of scarcity. Israel, full of wonder bread, makes its way to Mount Sinai. That gift of wonder bread as a miracle of abundance is a show of generosity that breaks the deathly pattern of anxiety, fear, greed, and anger, a miracle that always surprises because it is beyond our categories of expectation. It is precisely an overwhelming, inexplicable act of generosity that breaks the grip of self-destructive anxiety concerning scarcity. (Italics mine.)

The gift of manna, “wonder bread,” in Brueggemann’s delightful phrase, is real. It undercuts the ideology of scarcity. Ours is a God of extravagant abundance.

As Ronald Rolheiser wrote, in Sacred Fire: A Vision for a Deeper Human and Christian Maturity:

God is prodigal, abundant, generous, and wasteful beyond our small fears and imaginations. And that invites us to be generous: when we have a sense of God’s abundance, we can risk having a bigger heart and a generosity beyond the instinctual fear that has us believe that, because things seem scarce, we need to be more calculating.

It all comes back to trying to control, to trying to have everything secured for me, to fear of insecurity.

As Thomas Merton wrote in Seasons of Celebration:

“One of the things we must cast out first of all is fear. Fear narrows the little entrance of our heart. It shrinks up our capacity to love. It freezes up our power to give ourselves.”

There is enough love to go around, to embrace the homeless in the US and the migrants and refugees fleeing poverty and violence. There is more than enough.

But we first must get rid of fear.

Someone write, years ago (1 John 4: 18):

There is no fear in love. Perfect love casts out fear.

Two weeks in June

I have been remiss in the last few months, writing only occasionally. Perhaps it’s just laziness, perhaps it’s a busy schedule. Probably a combination of both.

June included: visiting the sick, training catechists, interviewing those preparing to be married, Sunday celebrations with Communion, preaching at Masses, visiting the prison with members of the parish, going to the celebration of 25 years of a priest, a Corpus Christi procession, meeting with the extraordinary ministers of Communion, meeting with youth leaders, and more.

From the church in Quebrada Grande, after a Celebration of the Word with Communion

In the last two weeks we have had training of the catechists in four locations – partly because of the difficulties that many people have to get to the parish center, as well as the cost of transportation. It also helps that there are usually only between twenty and thirty catechists in each session. That makes it much more manageable and personable.

The majority of communities only have one or two catechists which makes it difficult for them. In those villages, much of the religious education is oriented toward sacramental preparation. However, there are several communities that have between five and eight catechists. I am hoping that we can initiate a pilot project in some of these to have religious formation by levels, using the materials from the national catechetical office.

Father German, the pastor, was away for a national meeting for five days and so I presided at Celebrations of the Word with Communion several times, including three times one weekend. (I don’t know how he presides at four Masses each Sunday, together with one on Saturday evening. I guess that’s why he usually expects me to preach when I serve as a deacon at least once each Sunday at Mass.)

I also filled in at a celebration of the inauguration of a water system in the village of Agua Buena, Concepción. Finally, the village of “Good Water” (the meaning of its name, Agua Buena) has a good water system. An international group, Operation Blessing, helped finance the system but the people put in lots of labor – and their community water board took on a lot of responsibility for the project. I led an opening prayer and stayed for the celebration and the trip up to the water tank. I'm hoping to get back there one Sunday so that we can go up to the tank after the Celebration and bless the tank as a way of celebrating  and reaffirming a commitment to take care of creation, our common home.

One of the speakers was the vice president of the village water board. What surprised and pleased me was how he began his short speech, remarking on how much this would be of benefit to the women of the community. It was great to see such sensitivity.

Monday, June 25, I went to the town of La Unión, Lempira, for the celebration the next day of twenty-five years of priesthood of Padre Onofre. He comes from campesinos and was a late vocation, being ordained in his early forties. It was a joy to be there – especially to see him with his aged and frail father.

On Friday, June 29, I went to San Agustín to visit the sick. There were two surprises. I visited a man who had a stroke a few years ago, is paralyzed on the right side, and had trouble talking. I encouraged the communion minister there to try to find ways to see that he has some warm food every once in a while. People from the parish are visiting him. Also, someone has built a latrine and shower by his house. But what really surprised me this time was that his speech has improved.

Walking in one neighborhood in San Agustín, I came across a woman from one of the remote villages in the parish. She had come for some medicine for a very sick child, which cost more than 350 lempiras (about 15 dollars) in one pharmacy; she was looking for a less expensive pharmacy. But that was not the surprise.

I had visited the community in April and brought communion to her mother who lives in a remote part of the village. It was a great joy to be able to visit this older woman whom I had visited twice before. She had an operation a few years ago and never seemed to have fully recuperated. The surprise was that soon after me visit, fortified by Communion, the woman had regained some strength and was even able to get to the church in the village for celebrations. I am awed at the power of Christ and the faith of such a woman.

What else? 

The coffee association brought its coffee to the Beneficio where it was processed. It's now on the way to Ames, Iowa, and should be in a warehouse in South Bend, Indiana, in a few days. 

Several young people were able to get to the National Catholic Youth meeting in La Ceiba, helped by their connections with folks in Santa Rosa. Maybe next year we'll be able to get a larger group from here. 

Today I am off to Dulce Nombre for a meeting with the coordinators of Social Ministry from each village of the parish. I have no idea how many will come, but I really hope we can revive this ministry in the parish.