Easter Seems so Far Away

There are so many thoughts and threads going through my mind today.  As usual I’d like to try to tie them up all in a neat little package but the world is far more complex than this.

I’m remembering a year ago when I was in Haiti.  An experience that I still don’t really have the words to describe or capture.  A year later I still struggle with the scenes of desperation and despair I witnessed.  And I have no hope of working out the tension between the glimpses of hope and the unmistakable hold death still has.  I constantly remember the smiles of the children receiving lunch at school as well as the pleas of the children waiting outside the school to see if there would be any leftovers for them.

On today’s date in 1980, the Archbishop of San Salvador, Oscar Romero, was martyred for speaking out against the violence, poverty, and social injustice in El Salvador.  The legacy and stories of this man have shaped me and so many others.  As I remember his death, I also remember Romero’s remarkable faith and courage that were formed and displayed so vividly in his work of showing God’s love in word and action.

And today is also my favorite day of the church year: Maundy Thursday.  It is the day in which we remember the last supper Jesus had with his disciples in which he began the sacrament of communion.  It’s a day marked by a celebration of community, grace, and the connection we will forever have with Jesus and our fellow members of the Church.  After supper Jesus gave his followers a new commandment: “Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another” (John 13:34).  I love the messages Jesus shared with his disciples and with us even as he knew his death on the cross was coming the next day.

With all this remembering I’m finding it difficult to move forward today.  It’s so frustrating to recognize that in the grand scheme of things, not much has changed since these events 1 year ago, 36 years ago, and nearly 2000 years ago.  The world is still heavy with pain, suffering, evil, and death.  In Haiti, instability and extreme poverty remain.  While there are certainly pockets of hope these oases are fragile and could be destroyed so easily.  In El Salvador the gang violence has reached an all time high, and so many of my friends and acquaintances there are forced to live in constant fear.  In our world, we continue to see more and more examples of people being divided rather unified.  We see this in our politics, on social media, in our culture, and most devastatingly in the Church.  There are an infinite amount of examples of how we fail to love our neighbors as Jesus loved us.

Even though Easter is only three days away, today it seems unbearably far away.

Baggage

Lately I’ve been carrying around what feels like a lot of baggage.  Things weighing on my mind, things I wish I didn’t have to deal with, things that I wish the answers to would just become abundantly clear, trying to figure next steps to take.  Nothing major.  Just the challenges of trying to figure out how to live as a Christian and how to live as an adult (I’m seeing more and more that we are all just trying to make it up as we go along though…no one really knows…which is actually slightly reassuring).

As I packed my suitcases to go to El Salvador a month ago, I hoped that I would be able to leave some of my figurative baggage behind in El Salvador.  I was looking forward to an experience that would help put things in perspective.  I was eager for God to speak through my experiences in El Salvador and through the Salvadorans.  I was praying for a revelation, for things to be made clear.  I wasn’t looking for a audible voice from heaven, but I was hoping some time away from home and work and being among some incredible people would help we sort things out.  Through past trips to El Salvador I have gained clarity and direction in living life.

But as it turned out, I left El Salvador with more questions than I came with, less clarity, and even a little more frustration. 

Really it was foolish to think seven days in a foreign country could help me figure out life. 

The only thing that seems to becoming clearer is that I may never have as much clarity as I would like about most things.  My life will never be mapped out for me, there will always be something else to deal with, and I will always have more questions than answers. 

As a control freak it drives me crazy to not know and not have the answers.  I keep trying to gain knowledge and wisdom and I keep trying to find the answers, but it seems that as soon as I get one situation sorted out there’s something else to discern.

I live in the tension.  Perhaps life will never be settled and will always be unresolved.

But even though it often feels like heavy baggage, what if what seems like the burden of trying to figure life out is actually the proof that life is open-ended?  What if we looked at all these questions and situations to figure out as signs of the freedom we have to answer those questions and act in ways that make us feel alive?   The minute we stop asking questions or the minute we feel like everything is set and figured out is the minute we give up our opportunity to truly live.  

Love is Really Messy

Love is a word that gets thrown around a lot. 

I love ice cream.  I love my new car.  I love that TV show.  I love your shoes.

We use the word “love” in this superficial sense far too often. 

Most commonly the word “love” gets used as an emotion.  But the deeper meaning of love is not something you feel toward another person or something, but rather love is an action.

Love is doing anything to care for any person in need.

If I’ve learned anything about love, it’s that love is messy.  Loving other people is complicated, difficult, complex, problematic, challenging, demanding, tough, and risky.  Just really messy.

There are a lot of people in this world who need to be loved.  There is a lot of pain, a lot of suffering, a lot of hurting people in our communities.

Trying to love people can be exhausting in every way possible- physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.

Figuring out how and who to love keeps me up at night.

How can I possibly love everyone who needs to be loved?  How does one prioritize who needs to be loved?

How can I love people while making sure I’m not taken advantage of or I don’t completely exhaust myself?

When is “tough” love what is really needed?

How do I make sure that what I’m doing for someone is actually showing them love and not just hurting them more?

What if not everyone agrees with the way I think love should be shown to people?  Do I risk destroying a relationship with someone so that someone else can be loved? 

I think and pray hard and long trying to figure out how to love.  I have made mistakes when I thought I was doing or saying the right thing but really I wasn’t.  I have hurt people who I only intended to love.  I haven’t and won’t love perfectly.  My past mistakes and my fear of doing something wrong in the future, my fear of not loving enough or of loving too much or loving the wrong way, tempts me to give up.  Am I or anyone else really making any progress in caring for people in need?  Is it really worth it???

I get caught up in this thinking far too easily.  I have to remind myself again and again that all I can do is try as hard as I can to love people in the right way with the knowledge and resources I have right now.  And I pray that God will pick up the pieces, that somehow God will use my imperfect, failed attempts at loving people and will transform those attempts into something more beautiful than I could ever imagine.  This is love.

33 years ago today, a man who understood perfectly what it means to love, a man who lived and died loving other people, Archbishop of San Salvador Oscar Romero, became a martyr.  The prayer below, Prophets of a Future Not Our Own, often called the “Romero Prayer”, has been one of those things that helps remind me that love is worth it and that God is entering in and transforming the world.  

PROPHETS OF A FUTURE NOT OUR OWN

by Fr. Ken Untener 

It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view.

The Kingdom is not only beyond our efforts,

it is even beyond our vision.

We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the

magnificent enterprise that is God’s work.

Nothing we do is complete,

which is another way of saying that the Kingdom always lies beyond us.

No statement says all that could be said.

No prayer fully expresses our faith.

No confession brings perfection, no pastoral visit brings wholeness.

No program accomplishes the Church’s mission.

No set of goals and objectives includes everything.

This is what we are about.

We plant the seeds that one day will grow.

We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.

We lay foundations that will need further development.

We provide yeast that produces effects far beyond our capabilities.

We cannot do everything,

and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.

This enables us to do something,

and to do it very well.

It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning,

a step along the way,

an opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results, but that is the difference

between the master builder and the worker.

We are workers, not master builders,

ministers, not messiahs.

We are prophets of a future not our own.

Romero's Challenge for us Today

“It costs so much to be a full human being that there are few who have the enlightenment to pay the price.” –Morris West

Yesterday I had the opportunity to go to an event near Milwaukee on Oscar Romero.  Oscar Romero was the Catholic Archbishop of El Salvador from 1977 until March 24, 1980, when he was assassinated for speaking out against the injustice and violence being waged in El Salvador by the Salvadoran military and government against the people (see my post from a few years ago for more details about Oscar Romero).

Many of the speakers and conversations at the event yesterday focused on Romero’s conversion or transformation- the process that brought Romero to be a full human and to pay the price for living life so fully.

Oscar Romero never ceases to amaze, inspire, and encourage me.  As I learn more about Romero’s life, I’m finding it is the way he lived his life more than the way he died that challenges and inspires me.

How did Romero have the enlightenment to pay the price for being a full human being?  How can we take steps in the right direction of becoming a full human being and how do we get this enlightenment?

Here’s what we can learn from Romero:

Romero was so in touch with God.  He was a man of prayer, he prayed constantly and in all circumstances.  Romero’s driver told a story about the time Romero was involved in mediating a hostage situation.  Romero was praying, but stopped to ask the driver what he should do if someone started shooting in this tense situation.  The driver advised Romero to dive behind a ledge.  Romero went on praying and then paused to ask the driver if this would really work.  The driver answered (only partly joking) that yes, diving behind the ledge would protect Romero if he could stop praying for a moment to do so.  Above all, Romero knew God is the ultimate source of all strength.    

Today we must somehow find that connection with God through prayer, reflection, and scripture.  Only through an intimate connection with God can we ever hope to even know what God is trying to bring about here on earth. 

Romero was open to seeing and learning about the difficult and painful reality of the world.  Romero spent countless hours with people listening to their stories of grief and suffering and Romero traveled all around El Salvador seeing for himself the conditions and situations people were living in.  I can only imagine how painful this was for Romero to learn about and see the suffering of thousands of people.  Romero could have spent his life reading books and saying mass, but instead, he stepped out of his comfortable “bubble.”  

Today we must seek out the truth about the harsh realities of the world.  There is so much injustice in the world (including in our own communities), and we must educate ourselves and learn the truth, otherwise we have no chance of ending injustice.

Romero spent his time with the people who were suffering the most and the people who were nearest to death.  As the head of the Catholic Church in El Salvador, Romero could have very easily spent his time with the religious, political, and societal leaders of the country- the wealthy and the powerful.  However, Romero chose to live in a cancer hospital for the poor.  He chose to spend his time visiting poor rural communities.  He chose to devote his time to working for justice for people who were suffering and dying at the hands of the wealthy and powerful.   

Today we must ask ourselves: Where have we planted our feet and with whom do we spend our time?  Do we spend our time with the kind of people Jesus spent his time with, those people who are rejected by society?  We have so much to learn from the people who society rejects.

And finally, Romero did all this in community.  Romero had the direct and indirect support of fellow priests and the Salvadoran people.  Romero drew courage and strength from the Salvadoran people, and likewise, the Salvadoran people found strength in seeing Romero work to bring about a better world.  Three decades after his death, Romero continues to be a source of hope for the Salvadoran people.

Today we can’t do anything unless we do it together.  People of all countries, ages, races, economic levels, religions, denominations, etc. must join together to encourage each other to live more fully as humans. 

The life of Oscar Romero challenges us to continue the journey Romero set out on- to focus on Jesus in the deep darkness of this world and thus find the Light.    

Being Alive

After my second trip to El Salvador I wrote on this blog about a “something” that Salvadorans seem to have that I don’t.  While in El Salvador I feel this something and it stays with me for a while once I get home but it far too quickly dissipates.  It is this “something” that makes me feel alive, full of joy, happiness, and hope.

This “something” is something that I have thought about a lot and I have written about (on this blog and in my personal writing).  Every once in a while I have an insight about this “something” or I read a book or article that makes think about this “something” or I have a conversation with someone that helps me get closer to figuring out what that “something” is.  Yet, I still feel like I am far from understanding this “something”.  Maybe it’s a good thing that I have to keep searching for and refining an understanding of this something, but it is a little frustrating.

More and more I’m thinking that this “something” has to do with being alive.  When I say being alive I don’t just mean being alive in the sense that a person is breathing and his or her heart is beating.  No, I mean being alive in the fullest sense.

It has to do with being alive in Christ, living as Christ has asked and required us to live. 

What exactly does it mean to be alive in Christ? 

Ephesians 5:1-2 says, “Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.”

1 John 3:16, 18 lays it out even clearer: This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters.  Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.

To be truly alive means to live a life of sacrifice and love.  Jesus lived the perfect life of love and sacrificed everything he had for everyone who has or ever will live.  And we are supposed to follow Jesus’ example.

When I’m in El Salvador I experience this sense of being alive because I am among Salvadorans who are so much better than I am at living, at living a life of sacrifice and love.  Salvadorans are just really good at living selfless lives and loving everyone.  It’s evident in the way they go about their day to day life meeting the needs of other people when their own needs are often barely met.  It’s evident in the loving and generous way they care for complete strangers and foreigners who come to visit.  It’s evident in their stories from their experiences during the civil war in El Salvador- even in times of great tragedy and loss, so many Salvadorans continued to give up so much to work for a better world.  Salvadorans don’t just sit around and talk about the one time they made a sacrifice for someone else.  My Salvadoran friends daily live a life of sacrifice.  They love in action. 

And during the time I spend with Salvadorans, I understand what it means to be alive in the fullest sense.  I see people loving with reckless abandon.  I watch people live with hope.  I experience what it means to live with joy.  And I absorb the hope, love, and joy of the Salvadorans.    

So, then this question remains: how can I continue to feel that “something” when I’m not in El Salvador?  It has to be possible, right???

I’ve got some ideas on the answer to this question, but you’ll have to wait until next week for the answer.