Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Evangelization, the Economy and the Poor in Evangelii Gaudium

I was asked by the Catholic Extension Society to give a presentation on the above mentioned topic. The meeting of 80 or so bishops from dioceses considered mission dioceses here in the United States took place in Chicago this week. Brownsville is a mission diocese, and I was honored to participate. My talk is presented here below, complete with footnotes at the end. It is not a short piece, but I do not feel too badly about that. The topic deserves ample space and time:)
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Evangelization, the Economy, and the Poor in Evangelii Gaudium”
Presentation to the 2014 Catholic Extension Mission Bishops’ Conference

This afternoon we are focusing together on the economy and the poor in the teaching of Evangelii Gaudium. The document is about evangelization, and the Holy Father sees the Church’s relation to the poor as integral to our mission. The poor teach us about God, even as we seek to announce Christ to them. 

Pope Francis talks about the priority of time over space in EG 222. I would like to begin with his approach to the relation of space to time because in a certain way it can provide an organizing principle around which to describe the document's broader teaching on the Church’s mission and relation to the poor. The Holy Father notes:

One of the faults which we occasionally observe in sociopolitical activity is that spaces and power are preferred to time and processes. Giving priority to space means madly attempting to keep everything together in the present, trying to possess all the spaces of power and of self-assertion; […] Giving priority to time means being concerned about initiating processes rather than possessing spaces. Time governs spaces, illumines them and makes them links in a constantly expanding chain, with no possibility of return. What we need, then, is to give priority to actions which generate new processes in society and engage other persons and groups who can develop them to the point where they bear fruit in significant historical events.(1)

Space is a reality of the moment. It is not an idea. It is a now embodiment, and in the way Pope Francis describes it, it is particularly susceptible to possessiveness. Spaces are often dominated by a “this is my space” attitude. The reference reminds me of what Saint Thomas says about why material things cannot be the ultimate happiness of man: no one can be really happy though he possesses all he desires, simply because such things are passing, and one lives in fear of their loss at any moment.(2) Fear dominates an excessive preoccupation with spaces. Or, to put it more precisely, fear dominates preoccupation of spaces filled with things. 

But, if we are to take in earnest what the Holy Father says elsewhere in the document, that to believe that the Holy Spirit is at work in everyone means realizing that he seeks to penetrate every human situation and all social bonds, then we must admit that the present space, marred by possessiveness and the conflict and fear it engenders, can be sanctified and rectified.(3) But this is possible only if the prerogatives of time are restored to a proper place. The now is not mine to fill and then hold on to, against all competitors, it is a moment that opens up to the encounter with others, with God, and with God in others. To give priority to time over space is to make space consciously hospitable and docile to the reality of human life as a mystery of interpersonal growth and development.

I. The space created by the Gospel 

In economic terms, my diocese is one of the poorest in the United States. Over 1.4 million inhabitants in four fairly small (by Texas standards) counties. The third world and the first and second worlds are blocks from each other in my diocese. I can show you the colonias of dirt floor homes with unfinished roofs, housing extended families of 8 or more adults and children, all recent undocumented immigrants, on the outskirts of old towns, or in rural areas. I can also take you to old neighborhoods with houses dilapidating, but still serving the basic function of giving frame to a home-life. And I can take you to exquisite gated communities of old wealth and of new immigrant wealth. As I say, they are often just blocks from each other. The spaces speak about the perspectives of life and time animating the people dwelling in them. 

The first kind of space I would like to talk about, the one that preoccupies me the most, is the space created by preaching the Gospel. Pope Francis insists that the whole Church is to be engaged in this announcement. To announce the Gospel in its integrity establishes a human space suffused with grace, that is to say, a space, as the Holy Father states it: which invites us to receive God’s love and to love him in return with the very love which is his gift, brings forth in our lives and actions a primary and fundamental response: to desire, seek and protect the good of others.(4)

In an important sense the urgency of proclaiming the gospel has to do with redeeming the human space. The possessive character of human space needs the Gospel to open up its closed horizons. A space hospitable to God becomes a space necessarily hospitable to all that is human. The Gospel is about the kingdom of God (cf. Lk 4:43); it is about loving God who reigns in our world. To the extent that he reigns within us, the life of society will be a setting for universal fraternity, justice, peace and dignity. Both Christian preaching and life, then, are meant to have an impact on society.(5)

The implication of what the pope says, and what the Tradition has always affirmed, is that the distortion and only partially coherent configurations of fraternity, justice, peace and dignity in the world is the given state of things apart from regeneration in the New Adam. The Gospel regenerates human relations because it offers us the grace of relational transformation according to the mind of God in Christ Jesus the Lord.

Pope Francis’ teaching on social cohesion and economic justice picks up an important theme in Pope Benedict’s Caritas in Veritate: the social teaching of the Church is elaborating more concisely the primacy of charity as the gift that makes justice possible in a broken world. It will become increasingly difficult to speak of social justice without speaking also of evangelical charity, precisely because what constitutes justice is in intellectual disarray. This is a fact, and says something about where the reduced horizon of reasonable discourse has ended up in a positivist, voluntarist post-modernity. What is emerging, however, is a sense that the Gospel newness contained in the word charity -- gift of self for the good of another-- rightly establishes the context by which the Church can then talk about justice. In other words, evangelization—changing hearts to be bearers of charity—is the engine that makes a persevering effort on behalf of justice possible, provides its essential content, and which offers hope that a reasonable dialogue about what constitutes justice can be fruitfully engaged in practical terms.

By the death of Christ in one place and at one moment, God has created a space for us. It is the space where death yields to life. To be grasped by Christ Crucified and Risen, to accept the Kerygma in faith, demands a response to the God who, by accepting the Cross has chosen to identify with each and every one. Whatsoever you do to the least of mine you do to me. This is the source of the Gospel imperative that makes a Christian, by definition, one who must desire, seek and protect the good of others.(6)

Let me put it this way: Because God in Christ Jesus has said to me “What happens to you matters to me,” and because he particularly made this announcement to those who dwelt in the margins of the human spaces he traveled, then I must live my life as one who says to every human being: “What happens to you matters to me” This “it matters to me” is the call to live with this preoccupation as a daily and practical concern. The kerygma has a clear social content: at the very heart of the Gospel is life in community and engagement with others. The content of the first proclamation has an immediate moral implication centred on charity.(7) The announcement of the Gospel, the formation in the Gospel, and the inculturation of the Gospel creates a new space in a world of possessive spaces. The Gospel frees hearts to serve with generous self-forgetfulness. 

II. Mothers and Children

Each individual Christian and every community is called to be an instrument of God for the liberation and promotion of the poor, and for enabling them to be fully a part of society. This demands that we be docile and attentive to the cry of the poor and to come to their aid.(8)

Yes, the Diocese of Brownsville might be one of the poorest regions of the United States in economic terms, but I can testify that the space the Gospel opens up in hearts and in communities is rich and vibrant. In June and July, when the steady stream of Central American children crossing the Rio Grande River into McAllen and Brownsville turned into a flood, the first people to notice were women and men from some of our nicer neighborhoods, who, passing by the McAllen bus station, noticed mothers with young children in obvious distress, waiting in large numbers for their buses. They stopped, asked if they needed anything, and quickly learned that these were mothers with children who were released by immigration officials to find their way to relatives elsewhere in the United States. I need not go into the detail here about how immigration officials decide such things, but the fact is that these mothers and children were dehydrated, had not had a change of clothes since they began the trek across Mexico three or four weeks prior, and had not had a decent meal since they had left Honduras or Guatemala. The parishioners began organizing to take food and water to the bus-station, until the bus station complained that they couldn’t permit this to go on. That is when the whole operation moved to a parish hall near the bus-station where the mothers and children could be received, welcomed, given a place to take a shower, get a medical check-up, and get fresh clothes for the journey to New York, or Chicago or Pittsburgh or California or wherever. 

Since the operation became more organized with the help of our local Catholic Charities and literally hundreds of volunteers, I have been overwhelmed by the outpouring of generosity. I have had little old ladies in Pueblo de las Palmas, a very poor colonia, thrust two dollars in my hand and say esto is para las mamas y los niños (this is for the mothers and the children). The Archbishop of Monterrey, Mexico, sent word to me that he wanted to take up a second collection in his Archdiocese for the women and children from Central America coming into Texas. Now, Monterrey has more poor people than Brownsville does, but I gratefully accepted the offer as a sign of the communion of the church, and our solidarity with the poor. They raised $53,000.00 dollars. That was more than several of my second collections last year. Baptist churches in Tennessee sent van-loads of volunteers to man the parish hall for weeks at a time. The cities of Brownsville, Pharr and McAllen cooperated superbly, offering supplies, food, even shower facilities. I could go on and on. 

While in some places in the US, Central American mothers and children on busses were greeted with angry shouts and signs telling them that there was no place, no space for them here, this was not our experience. What does this mean? It means that when the Gospel opens a space in the human heart it’s dynamic knits together a human community that hears and sees the brother and sister in need, and then tremendous things can happen. We must hear the cry of the poor, the Holy Father says. And many people do. I wish I could say I had something to do with how it all developed in the Rio Grande Valley over the summer, that way I might have something to say for myself on judgment day, but the fact is that it was those ladies and men, moved by the Gospel, who saw what was happening in the bus station. It was the little old lady in Pueblo de Palmas with the two dollars, and the doctors who volunteer to this day to check the children and their mothers before they leave for elsewhere, and the people of Monterrey to want to help in some way. All of them in some way live out a commitment to the Gospel revolution that says we cannot be blind and deaf to the cry of a person in need, and that individuals and communities must respond in practical ways. If grace has no practical effect on how we hear and how we see the condition of our neighbor, what's the point?

III. Space and Time for Relationships to Bear Fruit

Since this Exhortation is addressed to members of the Catholic Church, I want to say, with regret, that the worst discrimination which the poor suffer is the lack of spiritual care. The great majority of the poor have a special openness to the faith; they need God and we must not fail to offer them his friendship, his blessing, his word, the celebration of the sacraments and a journey of growth and maturity in the faith. Our preferential option for the poor must mainly translate into a privileged and preferential religious care.(9)

I want to talk about the second space I feel obligated to attend to with great urgency. We all need to make decisions about where to put our priorities in pastoral planning. I will tell you where I see my greatest challenge, how to put sufficient personnel and facilities in the poorest areas of the diocese. We get a lot of help from Catholic Extension and others for places like Pueblo de Palmas, where the Missionary Sisters of the Immaculate Heart of Mary have been working for over ten years and where I recently established the Quasi-Parish of St Anne. I think that what the Gospel asks of me, and what Pope Francis is insistent upon, is that pastoral planning and resources not simply go to the places that can afford them. There are a couple of ways I am trying to address this. First, some of our poorest areas are also the areas with the most people. Parishes with mission chapels in these areas can barely afford to maintain one priest much less two. But if I only send parochial vicars to the parishes that can afford them, then I’m severely limited. What happens is that the newly ordained don’t get a good sense of the needs of the poor in the diocese, and the largest places do not benefit from the presence of a second priest, usually newly ordained and full of vim and vigor. Thus, increasingly, I use diocesan money to subsidize the salary and expenses of a second priest in the poorest areas of the diocese. To be a missionary diocese implies that diocesan resources, especially people resources need to go where most needed, not where best afforded. 

Secondly, I have earmarked the Diocesan annual appeal this year for diocesan projects that display local initiative into underserved areas. This is an attempt to encourage parishes to look beyond who is sitting in the pews, and find out ways to reach people who for some reason or other are not in the pews. I think the thrust of much of what Pope Francis is saying is an encouragement to us bishops to give space for local initiatives to take root and flourish. I want to see if this encouragement to local initiative bears some fruit. People on the ground often can display great creativity.

All of this that I describe has to do with opening spaces where attitudes shaped by the priority of time over space predominate. These are occasions and places where people can encounter one another, and where relationships can develop. This is where the response to the women and children at the bus station came from. 

This is also where a thing we call the Catholic Youth Renovation Project came from. Strong leadership at one of our economically strong parishes in Mission, Texas, led to an idea that teenagers from the parish and adults skilled in repairing and renovating homes could organize a week long excursion during the summer to the poorest regions of the diocese to help families in the colonias improve their houses. Over the last few years the initiative has grown. The kids put up walls, fix plumbing, add an extra room to little three room homes housing 6 to 10 people. And they have fun doing it, and take pride in their work. All this is possible because adults who know how to do these things have the patience to work with youth. Relationships develop between adults and kids from a middle-class parish. And these lead to relationships with the families whose houses they work on. The families offer them simple fare as they work. The teenagers get to know the small children being raised by grandmothers. There is time for Mass and prayer together, laughing, singing. Local businesses like chick-fil-a donate lunches. Now even the sheriff's department comes out to join in the work in the interest of building up good-will in the colonias. Again, I wish I could say the bishop makes this happen. I didn't, the Gospel operating in people's lives does. I go out to visit the sites, bless the renovated houses, and have lunch with the youth and adults. In other words I try to encourage the relationships that have made possible the gradual growth of this marvelous expression of solidarity. 
The grace is in the relationships that grow out of the encounter. The Holy Father is not saying anything novel when he places priority on this in the work of the Church. He is pleading with us to make it palpably real.

Obviously I would like to see this kind of project spread to other areas of the diocese. For many reasons I would want this, but most importantly so that young people can experience the joy of encountering the poor, their neighbors really, of knowing their names, of playing games with their kids. I want our young people to experience a joy that comes from forgetting their own problems long enough to be of help to someone else. Gospel joy is synonymous with Cristian maturity, and it's surest sign is in a person who says to another that the burden you bear is more important to me than my own.
But to see something like this grow, is not as easy as reproducing a structure. A letter from the chancery is not enough. It has to start with opening a space where relationships can coalesce and mature: first, the relationships in parish communities between adults and teenagers, then relationships between them and the poor who live just a few miles down the road.

Sometimes we prove hard of heart and mind; we are forgetful, distracted and carried away by the limitless possibilities for consumption and distraction offered by contemporary society. This leads to a kind of alienation at every level, for “a society becomes alienated when its forms of social organization, production and consumption make it more difficult to offer the gift of self and to establish solidarity between people”.(10)

As the Holy Father says, at root the Church must be about preaching and teaching the gift of self in solidarity with others as the road to life. It is commonplace in some Church circles to complain about how the media culture leaves no room for the Church's message. True enough, I suppose, but hardly an excuse for throwing up our hands. Take the youth to do something together for the good of someone else. Pray with them while they do it. It does no good to talk about finding life by learning how to give it away unless we give people, young and old, a taste of the experience. Then our preaching will find an experiential context within which they can understand. 

When the Holy Father says that the paradigm for the Church is the pilgrim and the immigrant, (and not, I add, the office building), he is saying that these forms of life are dependent on relationships first, and include necessarily an openness to what an encounter can bring. The immigrant in particular depends on the living God-- y la Virgen -- to protect them on the way, by his providence, and most especially by means of  the encounters the Lord facilitates. Dios te puso en mi camino-- God put you in my path-- is a phrase my Grandmother used a lot, and it comes from a sense of faith that God helps us on the pilgrimage of life by putting people who are compassionate and helpful in our lives. 

IV. Space to listen and to speak, space to understand and to act

It is in the context of relationship that I think we can best understand the Holy Father's remarks about reform of the global economy. He, and with him the Church, prefers realism to idealism. Changing things on a global level in a way that attends to the cry of the poor, is not a matter of proposing an economic schema that imposes from the top down a more equitable economic theory. It starts in some way with bringing to bear the kerygma of Christ for us thus we for all into the conversation about economic, and more broadly, social dysfunction. The dialogue engages by necessity many diverse participants. 

Solidarity is a spontaneous reaction by those who recognize that the social function of property and the universal destination of goods are realities which come before private property. The private ownership of goods is justified by the need to protect and increase them, so that they can better serve the common good; for this reason, solidarity must be lived as the decision to restore to the poor what belongs to them. These convictions and habits of solidarity, when they are put into practice, open the way to other structural transformations and make them possible. Changing structures without generating new convictions and attitudes will only ensure that those same structures will become, sooner or later, corrupt, oppressive and ineffectual.(11)

He speaks of developing habits of solidarity. For someone like me, contributing to a conversation about global economics has something of a surreal ring to it. I mean, what do I know about global economic structures impacting employment opportunities for the dispossessed in West Africa? Or in Honduras? And to be honest, the specter of global economic structures conjures images of power and intrigue that can frighten us as much as the Aztecs were frightened by a hostile pantheon. Still, once we get over the initial mythic fears, we realize that something can be done. Spaces open to development are possible and even now opening up. 

The US bishops have a treasure of opportunity in our own Catholic Relief Services. I happen to be on the board. Listening to Carolyn Woo and her excellent team, it is clear that there are many on the world economic stage who share our concern for the structural inequities that exploit the poor. They may not share our faith, but in some  way the recognition that the private ownership of goods is justified by the need to protect and increase them, so that they can better serve the common good is shared by diverse actors on the global stage. This is where it is vital that CRS and the whole of the Church's presence in global development through Caritas International and similar structures keep pace with the dialogue. 

In the global square of economic structure, the Church needs consistently to say, we can disagree about many things, but let us join our efforts on behalf of the poor and rejected in society.  This resonates with many more power-brokers than we might first imagine. Perhaps this is due to the historical fact that the gospel touches perspectives even where faith is no longer so evident. We who have faith must engage this reality. CRS has done some very hard work protecting the integrity of its Catholic identity on the global stage. This is necessary when so many others working in the development arena, including governments and corporations and foundations, do not share our commitment to integral anthropology, particularly on the life issues. As a result of this hard work we are in a better position to know with whom we can work cooperatively, be it as full partners or as limited cooperators in particular areas. 

New possibilities in Impact Investment are opening up as we speak, aimed at offering alternatives to an endemic structure of exploitation of labor and natural resources in the third world by purely self-interested parties in the first world. These alternatives offer hope that the poor can become active agents in the building of their own future. This is an example of what the Holy Father means when he says in paragraph 190 that we need to grow in a solidarity which “would allow all peoples to become the artisans of their destiny”,since “every person is called to self-fulfilment”. These things take time to develop. They will do so only if we help create space for processes to begin and to mature. 

We can no longer trust in the unseen forces and the invisible hand of the market. Growth in justice requires more than economic growth, while presupposing such growth: it requires decisions, programmes, mechanisms and processes specifically geared to a better distribution of income, the creation of sources of employment and an integral promotion of the poor which goes beyond a simple welfare mentality. I am far from proposing an irresponsible populism, but the economy can no longer turn to remedies that are a new poison, such as attempting to increase profits by reducing the work force and thereby adding to the ranks of the excluded.(12)

One of the reasons we cannot abide an economic program that relies ultimately on the theory of the "unseen hand", no matter how nuanced, is that at bottom it is as deterministic as it's polar opposite of Marxist theory ever was. We cannot let the notion that things will get better for the poor if we let market forces alone work their magic. Realistic Catholic anthropology recognizes that we are created to be free artisans of our own destiny. To be self moving agents as Saint Thomas says.(13) We are not cogs in a machine, governed by either inexorable dialectics or unseen hands. Self-interest is not a bad thing in itself so long as it is responsive to the primacy of relation over possession. The economy is for man, not man for the economy.

Sadly, even human rights can be used as a justification for an inordinate defense of individual rights or the rights of the richer peoples. With due respect for the autonomy and culture of every nation, we must never forget that the planet belongs to all mankind and is meant for all mankind; the mere fact that some people are born in places with fewer resources or less development does not justify the fact that they are living with less dignity. (14)

But coordinated thoughtfulness about how to open up opportunities for the poor to have control over their own destiny requires a renewal of the political order. Distrust and cynicism reigns currently in this space, not to mention preoccupation with preserving power balances. I think we need to get to know our local politicians, and their families, if we can, before we call to argue for a position or a vote. I have found the local political officials surprisingly open to this. The city of Brownsville recently passed a pay-day lending reform ordinance. Exploitation of the poor by brutal lending institutions charging families in financial crisis exorbitant interest is a real problem in Texas. I think the voice of the Church helped the political leadership garner the will needed to pass the reform ordinance locally. 

V. Hospitality and the Poverty of isolation

I would like to say a little about the issue of physical spaces in the life of the Church.  We need them, obviously. And Catholic Extension has helped us construct some vital structures. But in the context of time having priority over space, how we construct, and what we construct can be seen in a provocative light. I am more interested in hospitable parish spaces. The issue of hospitable spaces touches upon our response to what the Holy Father calls the poverty of isolation. It is particularly acute in our time, and it knows no demographic limitations. Rich, poor, citizen, undocumented, all can experience a version of it.

I worry that we do not even know how it is that we give off signals that some people are more welcome at our Churches than others. Maybe the poor think that only people of a certain class can go to that parish. Maybe the immigrant thinks that the community people will stare at them for looking different or sounding different. I tell the people, with a smile, that we have to make el primo tatuado y la tía loca (the tattooed cousin and the crazy aunt) feel welcome at our parish celebrations, and at our feast-days, and at out Sunday Masses. We may be scaring people away because they do not see us welcoming people who are poor, or the immigrant, or the crazy aunt and tattooed cousin. 

We need spaces where the poor can come as well as the rich, the young and the old, the immigrant and the longstanding parishioner. The poor need safe and versatile places within which to meet. The physical spaces house the kinds of encounters we were meant to foster and protect. A good parish hall with space for classrooms, and a kitchen says and does a lot. How can we invite people to take time to meet and enjoy each other if there is no way to offer food? It doesn't have to look like the lobby of a five star hotel, in fact it ought not, but it should say something by its design: we like people, we like all kinds of people. 

Parish festivals, especially in our poor areas are so important. There are so few places and occasions left in our culture where diversity can encounter itself. Where kids and parents can have a good time together listening to music, eating food, seeing young people, old people rich people and poor people having a good time together. We are the ones who can still provide those occasions, and set up the conditions for those encounters. It is the classic place to put into practice the Gospel injunction: if the invited will not come, then go out to the highways and byways to invite the poor, the cripple and the lame. In other words, like Jesus, we must show the world that we enjoy people, all kinds of people. Even people who have not entered the portal of a Church since their uncle Porfirio died in 1968.

VI. Addressing the poverty of the vulnerable 

Holy Father speaks also about the poverty of the vulnerable, that is to say the experience of relegation and exclusion that economic and social structures seem to enforce and certainly do little to address. 
In this context the Holy Fathers extended remarks about the protection of the unborn child are particularly powerful. It is the bedrock of a Christian witness on behalf of the respect due to human dignity. 

Precisely because this involves the internal consistency of our message about the value of the human person, the Church cannot be expected to change her position on this question. I want to be completely honest in this regard. This is not something subject to alleged reforms or “modernizations”. It is not “progressive” to try to resolve problems by eliminating a human life.(15)
When properly presented the Church's international efforts to defend the unborn child, and the local efforts in our smallest parishes are a witness as to the deepest why behind our efforts on behalf of the poor, the unemployed, the immigrant, the sick and the elderly.  Whatsoever you do to the least,... I think we need to vigorously link the poverty of the child as child, both born and unborn, to the vulnerability that underlies all poverty, and thus to all that we do on behalf of the poor. The vulnerable have only their God-given dignity to protect them from exploitation and manipulation. All vulnerable life must be defended from efforts to relegate and exploit them due to non-person status. As I have repeated elsewhere, the unborn child and the undocumented immigrant have this in common: governments do not recognize their status, thus they have no standing. And we say: God gives them standing because he makes them human. No further document is required. And the young mother who for whatever reason thinks her best option is to abort the child must here our people, not just our bishops and some of our priests say: we will accompany you are not alone. We will help you choose life.

The immigrant is particularly vulnerable. He or she often feels constrained to leave the homeland that he or she loves, because the social conditions and economic prospects at home are inhumane in the extreme. Honduras is a good example. The violence on kids is gruesome and frequent. With few options at home, the poor are victimized by coyotes and cartels alike, for ends that suit their own economic interests. Immigrants from there know this, but accept the manipulation as the only way out of a cruel status quo. If they are among the fortunate, they reach to the Texas-Mexican border so they can connect with relatives here. If not so fortunate, they are made mules in a drug trade, or prostitutes by coercion, or even sold to be harvested for their organs on the black-market. There is greater complicity than we think, the Holy Father cries, this issue involves everyone! This infamous network of crime is now well established in our cities, and many people have blood on their hands as a result of their comfortable and silent complicity.(16) The whole chain of human manipulation for selfish ends finances the lifestyles of the people who make money on the market of human lives. This stinks to heaven and will call down a judgment from God. The 10 year olds bear the marks of the Crucified in our time.

The breakdown of family structures and gang violence have devastated the social life of Honduras, Guatemala and El Salvador. My time with CRS has shown me that there are ways of working with the local community to give kids a safe space and hope for a future. It is an international problem, but I know that similar family disintegration and violence affect the poor in my diocese. Very likely this is also a growing reality in your diocese. I wonder if the human expertise CRS has gained in working these issues internationally could in some way become part of the human resource that mission dioceses here can learn from. Maybe the institutional capital of Catholic Extension, together with CRS, could coordinate an encounter for diverse people who want to discuss causes and alternatives to gang violence, all in the interest of finding out what works. There are ways forward. But time and commitment, and space to learn from the experience is needed.  

VII. The Joy of the Gospel and the poverty of indifference  

Meanwhile, the cold queen of the north is looking in the glass; the shadow of the Valois is yawning at the Mass, to paraphrase a Chesterton line that has some applicability here.(17) The Holy Father speaks often of the culture of indifference that neither hears the cry of the poor, nor sees their suffering. What is this phenomenon of indifference? It is as old as Cain who asks am I my brother's keeper, and the doctor of the law who asks who is my neighbor. But it's biting coldness has attained newer, deadlier manifestations.Our task also is to shake our culture, accustomed to the fruits of an economy that serves many but not all of our people well, out of a poverty of indifference. Not in anger but in the realization that salvation is linked inextricably to being awakened from the sleep of indifference that says: It's too difficult to hear of such suffering, speak to me of this another time.

There is a book I read recently, by the noted Spanish novelist Arturo Perez-Reverte, entitled El pintor de batallas, (The painter of battles).(18) It is readily available in English. It is the story of a war-correspondent, photographer, who spent his adult life traveling to places of violence and conflict across the globe so as to take pictures so the general population could see images of war. It is a difficult book to read, as it takes you through a chronicle of late 20th century wars: Somalia, Bosnia, Croatia, Beirut, Gaza, and countless others. At his prime as a photographer he retires to a secluded beach, buys an old light-house and begins to paint a great apocalyptic battle scene upon its interior walls. But the drama of the story is in the dialogue between the photographer turned painter and the man who at the beginning of the novel announces he has come to kill him. The man is someone the painter recognizes but had never met, a soldier in the Bosnian conflict whom he had photographed and whose features he made famous on magazine covers around the world. The visitor intends to kill the painter, but not before explaining to him how the photograph altered the course of his life. 

The novel is a brutal narrative of how modern man insulates himself from pain precisely by preventing the suffering he observes close at hand from engendering a relation to the one suffering. Our photographer could not make sense out of the suffering he chronicled, so he cut himself off from any relation to it, or responsibility for it. Without giving you the ending, you should know that the dialogue with the man he photographed but never knew engenders a self-awareness that a life cut off from the suffering of others produces a pain more cruel than the cruelty he photographed from an objective distance. Such perhaps is a way to understand the individualism of many. It is the disciplined indifference of those who would rather avoid the pain of hearing and seeing and thus relating to those who suffer. It is a self-imposed exile from relationships in a futile attempt to build a private space where the pain of others cannot touch me. The reduced horizon of the modern windswept world, where all the gods have gone away, and where we are alone with absurdity, sees this private space as not much, but in the end all we can hope for. Such a pitiable vision, ending in despair.

The novel reminds me of Cardinal Ratzinger's remarks somewhere in Dogma and Preaching that modern atheism is largely an armchair and television phenomenon: look at all that suffering, how could a good God exist and let such things happen? let us make sure it never comes here. But, as Ratzinger emphasizes in that essay, the people who actually work with others to alleviate suffering are usually the ones with deepest faith.(19) And often the poor themselves are the most generous to others in need. That is certainly true in Brownsville.

A world hiding behind objective indifference needs the joy of the Gospel. We will be credible evangelizers if we first do something, namely roll up our sleeves and enter the space where openness to human relations is first, and when encountering the pain of another we embrace the other person.  God is there. It is a challenge to the world to believe this and to say it: God is in the embrace of one who suffers. But they will not believe us when we say God is to be found there, in that place where a brother or sister suffers, unless they see the Church dwelling in that place and living the human encounter it brings with it. That, I think is what the Holy Father means when he speaks of evangelization and says he wants a church which is poor and for the poor. 

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Notes

1. EG 223
2. See Summa Contra Gentiles, III, 28-31
3. EG 178
4. EG 178
5. EG 180
6. EG 178
7. EG 177
8. EG 187
9. EG 200
10. EG 196
11. EG 189
12. EG 204
13. Summa Theologiae, prologue to the Second Part.
14. EG 190
15. EG 214
16. EG 211
17. See Lepanto, first stanza.
18. Arturo Pérez-Reverte, El pintor de batallas (Alfaguara, 2006).
19. Ratzinger, Dogma and Preaching, Second edition, "Good Friday" (Ignatius, 2011).

Friday, September 19, 2014

50º aniversario del Acta de los Derechos Civiles

Hace dos semanas el Presidente de la Conferencia Episcopal de los EEUU publicó una declaración conmemorando el 50º aniversario del Acta de los Derechos Civiles. Estuve presente en la reunión en Washington DC durante la cual el Arzobispo Kurtz nos presentó la carta, y me parece de notable elocuencia y de significado actual. Aquí les presento la traducción al Castellano preparada por la misma conferencia episcopal. La carta merece una distribución amplia.
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Declaración en ocasión del 50º aniversario del Acta de los Derechos Civiles
Arzobispo Joseph E. Kurtz
Arzobispo de Louisville, Kentucky
Presidente, Conferencia de Obispos Católicos de los Estados Unidos
Emitido Septiembre 9, 2014
Memoria de San Pedro Claver

“El que dice: «Amo a Dios» y no ama a su hermano, es un mentiroso. ¿Cómo puede amar a Dios, a quien no ve, el que no ama a su hermano, a quien ve? Este es el mandamiento que hemos recibido de él: el que ama a Dios debe amar también a su hermano. (1 Juan 4, 20-21)  

Mientras Estados Unidos celebra durante este año el 50º aniversario del Acta de los Derechos Civiles de 1964, me uno a mis hermanos obispos en recordar el historial heroico de ese logro.  Honramos a tantos líderes cívicos, de negocios y religiosos, a estudiantes, trabajadores, educadores y todos los que de buena fe y con valor defendieron la justicia racial contra la intolerancia, la violencia, la ignorancia, y el miedo.  Recordamos con agradecimiento los incontables sacrificios personales que realizaron, sacrificios que frecuentemente conllevaron dificultades, violencia y hasta la muerte.  Honramos la victoria que lograron tras una larga y prolongada lucha civil y legislativa.

Estamos especialmente agradecidos por las contribuciones esenciales de la comunidad de fe durante este periodo. Impulsados por sus valores y creencias, miembros de distintas confesiones  y denominaciones religiosas, incluyendo a católicos, insistieron en que la justicia racial en los Estados Unidos era imprescindible y no se podía soslayar.   Inspirados en las Sagradas  Escrituras, fortificados por la oración y la música espiritual, y sostenidos por el amor a Cristo, numerosos cristianos trabajaron con y para los pobres y marginados, notablemente en el segregado Sur del país.  

También unimos nuestra voz a aquellos obispos católicos que repetidas veces hablaron en contra del racismo como lo demuestran declaraciones de la organización predecesora a USCCB en 1943, 1958 y en 1963.  En la declaración de 1963, Sobre la harmonía racial, los obispos condenaron las injusticias de la segregación racial señalando que ésta “implica que las personas de una raza no pueden  asociarse con las de otra…No podemos conciliar esa opinión con el punto de vista cristiano sobre la naturaleza del hombre y de sus derechos.” También insistieron en que “la discriminación basada en el hecho accidental de la raza o el color… no puede reconciliarse con la verdad de que Dios ha creado a todos los hombres con igualdad de derechos y de dignidad”.  Un número de obispos—incluyendo  el Arzobispo Ritter (St. Louis, 1946), el Arzobispo O’Boyle (Washington, D.C., en las décadas de los años1940 y 50), el Arzobispo Rummel (New Orleans, también en los 50 y 60), y el Cardenal Sheehan (Baltimore, 1963) —trabajaron para desegregar las escuelas, hospitales y otras instituciones católicas, claramente enviando la señal con sus palabras y acciones de que la discriminación racial no tiene lugar en la Iglesia o en la sociedad. 

En otra declaración pastoral posterior, los obispos fueron más allá llamando al racismo por lo que es: “El racismo es un pecado: un pecado que divide a la familia humana, excluye la imagen de Dios entre miembros específicos de esa familia, y viola la dignidad humana fundamental de aquellos llamados a ser hijos de un mismo Padre.” (Brothers and Sisters to Us: U.S. Catholic Bishops’ Pastoral Letter on Racism, 1979) La Iglesia permanece como una voz profética y debe continuar insistiendo sobre la dignidad de todas las personas y la oportunidad muy real, disponible para cada uno de nosotros, de tener un encuentro personal con Cristo y ser instrumentos de su sanación, amor y verdad.  Como mi hermano obispo, el Obispo Joseph Perry ha dicho, “La Iglesia continua siendo la fuente principal de sanación y esperanza para la gente…Seguimos necesitando de la Iglesia profetas y agentes de reconciliación, individuos y grupos, laicos y miembros del clero que se responsabilicen de unir a la gente a pesar de diferencias obstinadas y conflictos que garantizarían muros de separación en nuestra sociedad.” (1998)

Hace cincuenta años, el Acta de los Derechos Civiles ofreció una rama de olivo de esperanza para un tratamiento igualitario y oportunidades de educación, empleo y completa  participación en la sociedad.  La legislación prometió una mejor calidad de vida para millones de estadounidenses que habían sido excluidos de los privilegios de la ciudadanía basándose  en su raza, color, nacionalidad, y  por otros motivos.  El Acta defendió la dignidad humana y extendió protecciones legales que comenzaron a transformar comunidades alrededor del país.

El Acta de los Derechos Civiles fue un enorme avance y, desde entonces, hemos progresado aún más en este trabajo vital de transformar corazones y mentes, pero aún hay mucho más por hacer.  El Acta por sí misma no erradicó el legado de la esclavitud, la discriminación racial y la injusticia. De hecho, diariamente hay recordatorios a través de la nación de que las brasas de la discriminación racial todavía están candentes.  Este mal infecta instituciones, leyes y sistemas, y daña a nuestros hermanos y hermanas.  Por ello debemos continuar trabajando contra la influencia destructiva del racismo en las familias, comunidades religiosas y civiles, en las prácticas de empleo, el sistema de prisiones, de vivienda, y sobre el hambre, el rendimiento académico, y la salud mental.

Mientras reflexionamos en el trabajo que ha sido logrado y lo que queda por hacer, deseo mencionar las contribuciones especiales e incansables del Reverendo Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.  La primavera pasada, tuve el privilegio de participar junto a una delegación de líderes cristianos en un simposio ecuménico en Alabama donde reflexionamos sobre su renombrada “Carta desde la Cárcel de Birmingham” en la presencia de su hija, la Reverenda Bernice King.  En su carta, el Dr. King abogó por una acción fuerte y oportuna para levantarnos “de las arenas movedizas de la injusticia racial a la roca sólida de la dignidad humana”.  Espero que continuemos esforzándonos por alcanzar esa “roca sólida de la dignidad humana” en el presente y honremos con gratitud los sacrificios de las acciones y los escritos del Dr. King.

En conclusión, el Evangelio requiere la transformación continua personal y social.  Respetar la dignidad de cada persona es primordial al tratar de difundir por  el mundo la belleza de la verdad de Dios.  No podemos desanimarnos.  Como el Papa Francisco nos recuerda, “Llevar el evangelio es llevar la fuerza de Dios para arrancar y arrasar el mal y la violencia; para destruir y demoler las barreras del egoísmo, la intolerancia y el odio; para edificar un mundo nuevo.” 

Al conmemorar los logros notables que dieron lugar al  Acta de los Derechos Civiles y otros movimientos significativos hacia la justicia para todos los hijos de Dios, continuemos portando el estandarte y sigamos adelante para amarnos los unos a los otros como nuestro Señor nos amó (Jn 13:34).  Y al hacerlo, recordemos las palabras del Dr. King escritas desde su celda en la cárcel: “Tengamos la esperanza de que las nubes oscuras del prejuicio racial pronto pasarán y la profunda neblina de la incomprensión  se levantará de nuestras comunidades saturadas de miedo, y que en un futuro no muy distante las radiantes estrellas del amor y la hermandad brillarán sobre nuestra gran nación con todo su esplendor.”

Fiftieth Anniversary of the Civil Rights Act


During the recent meeting of the Administrative Council of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, the President of the Conference, Archbishop Joseph Kurtz of Louisville, Kentucky, issued the following statement, drawing attention to the 50th anniversary of the Civil Rights Act. I was present at the Admin meeting and thought the Archbishop's statement was particularly important, moving, and timely. I think its contents should be more widely known.

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Statement on the Occasion of the 50th Anniversary of the Civil Rights Act
Archbishop Joseph E. Kurtz
Archbishop of Louisville, Kentucky
President, United States Conference of Catholic Bishops
Issued on September 9, 2014
Memorial of St. Peter Claver

“If anyone says, ‘I love God,’ but hates his brother, he is a liar; for whoever does not love a brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen.  This is the commandment we have from him:  whoever loves God must also love his brother” (1 John 4:20-21).

As America celebrates the 50th anniversary of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 this year, I join together with my brother bishops in recalling the heroic history of that achievement.  We honor the many civic, business, and religious leaders, students, laborers, educators and all others of good will who courageously stood up for racial justice against bigotry, violence, ignorance, and fear. We remember with deep gratitude the countless personal sacrifices they made, sacrifices that all too often included hardship, violence, and even death. We honor the victory they won after such a long and sustained civil and legislative struggle.

We are especially grateful for the vital contributions of the faith community during this period.  Propelled by their values and beliefs, members of different faiths and denominations, including Catholics, insisted that racial justice in the United States was an imperative, no longer to be ignored.  Inspired by Holy Scripture, fortified by prayer and spiritual music, and sustained by a love for Christ, a number of Christians worked with and for the poor and marginalized, notably in the segregated South.  

We also join our voice to those Catholic bishops who repeatedly spoke against racism as evidenced by statements from the USCCB’s predecessor organization in 1943, 1958 and again in 1963. In the 1963 statement On Racial Harmony, the bishops condemned the injustices of segregation saying that it “implies that people of one race are not fit to associate with another…We cannot reconcile such a judgment with the Christian view of man’s nature and rights.”  They further insisted that “discrimination based on the accidental fact of race or color…cannot be reconciled with the truth that God has created all men with equal rights and equal dignity.”  A number of bishops—including Archbishop Ritter (St. Louis, 1946), Archbishop O’Boyle (Washington, D.C., 1940s and 50s), Archbishop Rummel (New Orleans, 1950s and 60s), and Cardinal Sheehan (Baltimore, 1963)—worked to desegregate Catholic schools, hospitals, and other institutions, clearly signaling by their words and actions that racial discrimination has no place in the Church or in society.

In a later pastoral statement, the bishops even more directly named racism for what it is: “Racism is a sin: a sin that divides the human family, blots out the image of God among specific members of that family, and violates the fundamental human dignity of those called to be children of the same Father.” (Brothers and Sisters to Us: U.S. Catholic Bishops’ Pastoral Letter on Racism, 1979) The Church remains a prophetic voice and must continue to insist on the dignity of all persons and the very real opportunity available to each of us, to have a personal encounter with Christ and to be instruments of His healing, love, and truth.  As my brother bishop, Bishop Joseph Perry has said, “The Church remains the principal source of healing and hope for people... We continue to need from the Church prophets and agents of reconciliation, individuals and groups, laity and clergy who make it their responsibility to bring people together despite stubborn differences and the conflicts that would guarantee walls of separation in our society.” (1998)  

Fifty years ago, the Civil Rights Act offered an olive branch of hope for equal treatment and opportunities for education, employment, and fuller participation in society.  The legislation promised a better quality of life for millions of Americans who had been excluded from the privileges of citizenship based on race, color, national origin, and other grounds.  It championed human dignity and provided legal protections that began to transform communities around the country.

The Civil Rights Act was a monumental step forward and since then, we have made even more progress in this vital work of transforming hearts and minds, but there is still much work to do. The Act itself did not eradicate the legacy of slavery, racial discrimination and injustice.  In fact, there are reminders across our nation today that the embers of racial discrimination still smolder.  This evil infects institutions, laws, and systems, and it harms our brothers and sisters.  We must therefore continue to work against the destructive influence of racism on families, religious and civil communities, employment, the prison system, housing, hunger, educational achievement, and mental health.

While reflecting on the work that has been accomplished and that which remains to be done, I wish to mention the special and untiring contributions of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.  Last Spring, I had the privilege to join a delegation of Christian leaders at an ecumenical symposium in Alabama where we reflected on Dr. King’s renowned Letter from Birmingham Jail in the presence of his daughter, the Rev. Bernice King.  In his letter, Dr. King advocated for strong, timely action to lift us “from the quicksand of racial injustice to the solid rock of human dignity.”  I hope we will all continue to strive for that “solid rock of human dignity” today and to honor with gratitude the sacrificial labors of Dr. King’s writings and actions. 

In conclusion, the Gospel requires ongoing personal and social transformation. Respecting the dignity of each person is paramount as we seek to spread the beauty of God’s truth throughout our world.  We cannot give in to discouragement. As Pope Francis reminds us, “Bringing the Gospel is bringing God’s power to pluck up and break down evil and violence, to destroy and overthrow the barriers of selfishness, intolerance and hatred, so as to build a new world.”

As we commemorate the notable achievements that resulted in the Civil Rights Act and other significant movements toward justice for all God’s children, let us continue to take up the banner and press forward to love one another as our Lord loved us (Jn 13:34).  And, as we do so, we recall the words of Dr. King written from his jail cell, “Let us all hope that the dark clouds of racial prejudice will soon pass away and the deep fog of misunderstanding will be lifted from our fear drenched communities, and in some not too distant tomorrow the radiant stars of love and brotherhood will shine over our great nation with all their scintillating beauty.”
 

Hablando de aeropuertos y de la Cruz...

Viajo mucho. No quiero decir que es una cruz tener que hacerlo-- no llega a compararse con lo que cargan otros -- pero sí les confieso que no cuento  el embarcar y desembarcar de aviones entre mis actividades favoritas. Sin embargo, forma parte del ritmo de mi vida como obispo. Conozco bien la rutina de seguridad. Quito mis zapatos, el saco y el cinturón; con prisa saco de la mochila  la bolsita de plástico con los líquidos de tres onzas. Con toda precaución para no ser causa de demora en la línea de espera, me acerco al aparato con aspectos de burbuja enorme al estilo Star-Trek para que me tomen la radiografía. Siempre me dicen lo mismo: Espérese aquí a un lado. Sin excepción me cachean alrededor del pecho, buscando el objeto que provoca el curioso relucir debajo de la camisa negra. Es la Cruz que siempre traigo puesta, un crucifijo que he usado por más de treinta años, que antes usaba mi papá. Me he acostumbrado a sacarlo para que los de la seguridad lo vean, pero de todos modos me inspeccionan atentamente. Pronto me dejan pasar.

Me pregunto ¿y por qué no me la quito antes de pasar por la línea de seguridad? Sería más conveniente, y evitaría la demora de siempre. Pero, no, por instinto de gracia, o por ser un poco terco – ¿quién puede juzgar su propio caso? – no me la quito. Resisto quitarme la Cruz porque no es un sombrero, o un cinturón. De alguna manera, ser cristiano significa sentir que la Cruz forma parte esencial de nuestro propio ser. Y eso no se puede quitar para evitar algunos momentos extras en la línea de seguridad. 
Señor de la Misericordia, Tepatlan, Jalisco.

¿Qué significa amar la Cruz de Cristo? Significa corresponderle el amor ofrecido desde ahí. Implica una respuesta al Hijo de Dios quien acepto ser Hijo de María precisamente para poder asumir dentro de su divinidad lo que pertenece a nuestra humanidad. No podemos hablar de lo que pertenece al ser humano sin mencionar el pecado y la muerte. Bueno, es el lenguaje de la fe decirlo así. Pero debemos llegar al grano. En la Cruz, Cristo nos ama hasta la muerte, y acepta ser víctima del poder del pecado. En la Cruz se muestra como víctima triunfante precisamente porque siendo Dios el poder del pecado lo puede matar, pero no puede quitarle la vida (para decirlo de una manera paradójica). No podemos amar la Cruz sin confesar que el pecado y la muerte son cosas reales, fuertes, y más allá de nuestras fuerzas para abolir o controlar. Y además, amar la Cruz implica confesar que Dios tuvo que intervenir para superar el poder nefasto de lo que nos aflige. 

El mundo de hoy no habla mucho del pecado, y busca como evitar la palabra—supuestamente para evitar rasgos de juicio o de responsabilidad en el modo de habla-secular (palabra que he inventado para nombrar la campaña de borrar seña de los significados religiosos en el idioma común). Pero por el momento, no hay para que entrar en discusiones de juicio o responsabilidad antes de tiempo. Lo primero, primero. Nosotros llamamos pecado a ese poder nefario dentro del ser humano y dentro de la historia que siempre resulta en crucificar al hombre. Sea la enfermedad última y la muerte natural, sea condena injusta, sea la traición, o el fratricidio de Caín, sea la pobreza de los inocentes, sea lo que sea, lo más obvio es que el hombre sufre la cruz porque la realidad humana y su historia dan testimonio de esta experiencia inexorable. Si los modernos sin interés en la religión no quieren hablar de responsabilidad o juicio, y por eso no hablan de pecados, está bien, es tema para otro día. Pero que tengan la honestidad de admitir que el sufrimiento tiene causa, y no se limita a causas naturales como enfermedades y terremotos. El mismo ser humano ha sido el que ha sobreabundado en obras afligiendo a otros seres humanos. Estas obras de odio y venganza, las mentiras inventadas para justificar el rechazo de los indeseables, el apetito voraz para mantener el control y poder, el juego que traiciona a los vulnerables, -- todo esto muestra que el mundo ha caminado un camino histórico chueco y equivocado desde antes que existiesen los libros para catalogarlo.

Repito la pregunta: ¿Qué significa amar la Cruz de Cristo? Nosotros viviremos la Cruz con Cristo o sin Él. Es decir que la Cruz es símbolo de nuestra más profunda herida. Pues, abrazando la Cruz con Él, amamos el Dios de amor que nos ofrece salida del ciclo interminable de pecado, sufrimiento y muerte. En Cristo Jesús, Dios aceptó ser crucificado con los demás, o sea, con todos nosotros. Lo crucificaron, y aceptó ser crucificado. Uno tiene que ver con el juego del mundo bajo el poder del pecado, el otro tiene que ver con la libertad del Señor, voluntariamente entregándose. Amamos el Cristo entregado, y veneramos el amor que motivó al Señor Dios identificarse de una manera definitiva con nuestra condición, dándonos prueba que el amor triunfa sobre el pecado. Creer en la Cruz significa creer que al fin y al cabo, el amor de Dios presente en el hombre vence sobre el odio, y la vida sobre la muerte. En la Cruz, la justicia de Dios se muestra como misericordia ofrecida hacia nosotros.


En la gran esquema de las cosas, lo que hace uno en la línea de seguridad de los aeropuertos, quitándose la cruz, o dejándola puesta, no llega a alturas asombrosas. Pero lo que sí toca a la salvación es nuestra actitud delante de la Cruz de Cristo. La Cruz es el centro de la vida de un católico; decir que soy cristiano equivale decir que creo en el poder de la Cruz de Cristo. Si por la gracia de Dios llegamos usted y yo a la salvación eterna, sin duda será porque hemos perseverado en la fe que tenemos en la Cruz del Señor, y en corresponderle el amor victorioso que Él nos ha ofrecido.

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Thursday, September 18, 2014

Of Airports and Crosses


I travel frequently. I will not say doing so is a cross- it does not compare to what others carry – but I do confess that boarding and disembarking from airplanes is not one of my favorite activities. Nevertheless, it’s part of my life as a bishop. I know airport security routine really well. I take off my shoes, and my belt; and from my back-pack I quickly I take out the plastic bag with the 3.4-ounce liquids. Careful not to cause a delay in the waiting line, I approach the enormous Star Trek style, bubble-like machine so TSA employees can run the scan. They always tell me the same thing: Wait here to the side. Without fail they pat down my chest area looking for the curious object detected under my black shirt. It is the Cross I always wear, a crucifix I have used for more than 30 years, which my father once wore. I am used to taking it out so that the security guards can see it, but they inspect me meticulously either way. Soon they let me pass.  

I ask myself, why don’t I take the Cross off before passing the security line? It would be more convenient, and I would avoid the regular delays. But no, by instinct of grace, or because I am stubborn – who can judge his own case? – I don’t take it off. I resist taking off the Cross because it’s not like a hat or a belt. In some way, being Christian means feeling the cross is an essential part of our very selves And that kind of thing cannot be taken off to avoid a few extra minutes in the security line. 


What does it mean to love Christ’s Cross? It means to reciprocate the love he offered from there. It implies a response to the Son of God who accepted to be the Son of Mary precisely to be able to assume within his divinity what belongs to our humanity. We cannot talk about what belongs to the human being without mentioning sin and death. It is the language of the faith to say it this way.  But we must get to the point. On the Cross, Christ loves us until death, and He accepts being a victim to the power of sin. On the Cross he shows himself as a triumphant victim precisely because by being God, the power of sin can kill him but cannot take away his life (to say it in a paradoxical way). We cannot love the Cross without confessing that sin and death are real, strong and beyond our strength to abolish or control. And further, loving the Cross implies confessing that God had to intervene to overcome the nefarious power of what afflicts us most deeply.

Today’s world doesn’t talk much about sin and tries to avoid the word – apparently to avoid leaving any sign of judgment or responsibility in secular-speak (a word I invented to name the campaign to erase the traits of religious meaning from everyday language). At the moment, though, there is no need to engage in discussions about judgment or responsibility. First things first. We call sin that nefarious power within human beings and within history that always results in the crucifixion of human beings. Be it the last illness and natural death, be it an unjust condemnation, be it betrayal, or Cain’s fratricide, be it the poverty of the innocent, whatever it may be, the most obvious fact is that men suffer the Cross because human reality and history give testimony to this inexorable experience. If modern men and women who have no interest in religion do not want to talk about responsibility or judgment, and because of that they do not talk about sin, it’s okay, it’s a topic for another day. But they should be honest and admit that suffering has a cause, and it is not limited to natural causes such as illnesses or earthquakes. Human beings themselves have been responsible for actions afflicting other human beings. These actions of hate and vengeance, the lies invented to justify the rejection of the unwanted, the savage appetite to maintain control and power, the game that betrays the vulnerable - all this shows that the world has walked a crooked and mistaken historic path since before books were written to record it.

I repeat the question: What does it mean to love Christ’s Cross? We will experience the Cross with or without Christ Jesus. In other words the Cross is the sign of our own most profound wound. By embracing the Cross with Christ, we love the God of love that offers us an exit from the vicious cycle of sin, suffering and death. In Jesus Christ, God accepted being crucified with the rest of us, that is to say, with all of us. They crucified him, and he accepted being crucified. One has to do with the game of the world under the power of sin, the other has to do with our Lord’s freedom, surrendering himself voluntarily. We love the self-gift He gives, the love, which motivated God our Lord to identify in a definitive way with our condition, giving us proof that love triumphs over sin. To believe in the Cross means to believe that in the end the love of God present in us defeats hate, and that life defeats death. On the Cross, God’s justice shows itself as a sign of mercy offered to us. 


In the larger scheme of things, what one does in the security line at airports, taking off the Cross or leaving it on, doesn’t reach astounding heights of importance. But what does touch upon our salvation is our attitude in front of Christ’s Cross. The Cross is the center of a Catholic’s life; to say I am Christian is equivalent to saying I believe in the power of Christ’s Cross. If by God’s grace you and I reach eternal salvation, without a doubt it will be because we have persevered in the faith we have in the Lord’s Cross, and because we have reciprocated in some way the victorious love he has offered us.

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Catholic Extension Society announces LUMEN CHRISTI AWARD to the Missionary Sisters of the Immaculate Heart of Mary working in the Rio Grande Valley

I am very happy to share with you the news that the Catholic Extension society has awarded the LUMEN CHRISTI Award this year to the Missionary Sisters of the Immaculate Heart of Mary working tirelessly here in the Diocese of Brownsville to build up the community in the area of western Hidalgo County, in and around Pueblo de las Palmas. Here is the text of the announcement:

"We are proud to announce the 2014 recipients of our Lumen Christi Award! Sister Carolyn Kosub, Sister Emily Jocson and Sister Fatima Santiago of the Catholic Diocese of Brownsville have spent more than a decade ministering to the needs of residents in one of the most impoverished areas of the country by building up a vibrant Catholic community in southern Texas. Watch the video and click the link to read about their extraordinary efforts to shine the light of Christ and transform lives through faith. Full story: cathext.in/1s6NWhi "


God continue to bless the Sisters!

This announcement brings great joy to my heart. I have shared many happy moments with the Sisters, and look forward to many more. This is a moment to give thanks to God for all the generous prayer and work given by the Sisters over the years, and for the fruit that God has brought forth through their efforts. Let us thank God, let us also thank Sister Carolyn, Sister Emily and Sister Fatima, and the members of the IHM community world-wide, and let us thank Catholic Extension for their strong and vital support of the missionary work of the Church here in the Rio Grande Valley and throughout the  United States.
A happy moment at St. Anne's Church earlier this summer,
as the community gathered to celebrate the Feast of Saint Anne.

Their work and that of so many other religious and lay persons, serving as living messengers of the Gospel in some of the poorest regions of the Rio Grande Valley, are what have made it possible for beautiful things to happen in the lives of so many of our brothers and sisters. The Rio Grande Valley is a generous and hospitable place, welcoming and kind; this spirit of the Gospel which is so evident here is the result of God's grace and the work of so many religious women and men who served here and who have served here for over 160 years.

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Payday Lending Reform Passed in Brownsville


Payday Lending Reform Ordinance in Brownsville

September 17, 2014

 

On behalf of all Brownsville families, I want to thank Mayor Tony Martinez and the city commissioners for passing the payday lending ordinance and becoming the 19th city in the state to adopt regulatory ordinances to provide some basic protection for consumers.


The ordinance is a good step forward to help protect families in Brownsville from predatory lending practices.


I urge all citizens to support reform efforts on the State level. In many parts of Texas "ready cash” lenders are charging up to 600 percent in annual percentage rates and fees on short-term loans.  Individuals and families faced with a financial emergency, or simply trying to pay the rent, have few options, and as a result of predatory lending, face a crushing cycle of debt. 


For the past three legislative sessions, the Texas Catholic Conference has worked to urge lawmakers in Austin to impose stronger consumer protections. Resistance to reasonable reforms has been strong, but reform can be passed if lawmakers keep the best interests of poor and working families in mind.


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Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Dedication of the Altar: Immaculate Conception Cathedral in Brownsville

Immaculate Conception Cathedral, in Brownsville, first dedicated in 1859, four years after Blessed Pope Pius IX defined the doctrine of our Lady immaculately conceived, received a newly consecrated altar and renovated sanctuary last evening on the feast of our Lady of Sorrows. The founder of the Oblates of Mary Immaculate, Saint Eugene de Mazenod, was present in Rome when the dogma was defined, and shortly thereafter sent the first Oblates to the Rio Grande Valley. Saint Eugene's relics were deposited in the altar during the dedication ceremony.



A fire in 1970 destroyed the original French Gothic sanctuary. The renovation sought to restore the architectural and artistic integrity of the sanctuary, while allowing for the adaptations needed for the Church's liturgical practice.



The Blessed Sacrament was restored to the raredos at the high altar. The Bishop's chair was placed to the side. 



The pulpit and chair were acquired from France. Both reflect a French Gothic style in keeping with the original architectural inspiration of the Church.




The litany of the Saints was sung as part of the dedication rite.



The relics of Saint Eugene were deposited and sealed in the altar.



After the prayer of dedication, I annointed the altar upon which the sacrifice would be offered.  The offering of the Mass on the altar for the first time is the principal act by which the altar is consecrated. 


The image of Our Lady Immaculately Conceived overlooks the sanctuary. As I noted in the homily, Our Lady Immaculate received the privilege of conception without sin in anticipation of the merits of Christ. And this grace is a singular expression of the grace we all receive at baptism, flowing from the merits of Christ. Mary's fullness of grace associated her in the most intimate way to her Son, and led her to the foot of the Cross, where she willingly gave to the Father the Son He had given her. Such is the mystery of Our Lady of Sorrows. So also the Church, the assembly of the baptized, come to this altar to associate themselves by grace to the Christ who offers Himself to the Father on our behalf. We too make an offering, for Christ Jesus is ours also, as He was Mary's. We give to the Father the Redeemer-Brother that the Father has gjven us. In doing so we give Him ourselves. In this way, Father gives us Life. 





Durante el sermón, le dije a la gente, que si me muero mañana, y un reportero llega a preguntarles ¿y qué hizo el obispo durante su vida?, les doy permiso decirle: Pues, no sé. Sólo recuerdo que quitó su silla de en medio, y puso el Santísimo al centro del santuario.

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Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Education and Life


Education and Life:
School is more than classes

My first day of school was traumatic. I still remember it rained cats and dogs that day. Or, as my Grandmother would say estaba lloviendo ranas.The rain that day and the tempest in my soul matched up better than in any Shakespearian play. I cried when I got out of the car to go find my classroom. I didn't know anyone. Maybe they would be mean; maybe I would not learn how to spell my name. Maybe they would make fun of my flat-top haircut. Maybe I would get on the wrong bus in the afternoon, and never find my way home. Very real fears for a six year old. 

I survived. I only got on the wrong bus a couple of times. You learn from your mistakes. Get on the wrong bus, and you learn to pay more attention to your surroundings, next time. You also learn from your fears. People were nice, I eventually made friends and learned how to spell. A lot of times what seems like the end of the world is really the beginning of a challenging adventure.
I travel up and down the Rio Grande Valley constantly. I talk to a lot of people (a basic elements of a Bishop's job description). As I travel I often encourage young people to study hard and to stay in school. And I tell parents to be involved in their children's education, to stay alert about what might discourage them, and to talk with them about what they are learning. The drop-out rates in the Valley are alarming. Sometimes young people ask me why they should stay in school. I am sure they ask the adults around them too. 

Why go to school? Maybe we think the answer is obvious, so we answer them quickly by saying because you can't get a good job without an education. It's true of course. An education is key to future economic security. For someone to live a good life, maybe get married and have a family, a good job is essential. And in the world our children are growing up in, technology and communication are vitally important. To be conversant in the computer world, internet communication, implies knowing things about science, mathematics, writing and listening skills, not to mention the advantages of knowing more than one language. We want our young people to have opportunities in the world that is opening up before our eyes. And so we rightly say to them: stay in school, get a good job.  What we are saying is: you need to learn a lot of stuff to make it in this world.

But there is more to it than that. School is at least as important for what we learn in the process of going, as it is for the stuff we learn while we are there. On my first day of school, I learned that something that is scary at first can actually be a great blessing. In the fourth grade when I realized I was going to have a great deal of trouble learning the multiplication tables and learning how to do long-division, I panicked. Yes, a fourth grader can go through a panic experience. But my teachers, my friends at school, my parents, they all said I could learn it. It was going to take a lot if work, but I could do it. My mom bought flash-cards with the multiplication tables, my brother practiced with me until I memorized them. Time that I would have preferred using watching television or riding my bike had to be given to memorizing what 8 times 9 equals. The whole experience was an education in how not to be afraid to get help, and in how not to give up if at first you fail at something. That lesson was even more important for my life than the multiplication tables committed to my memory.  

In high school I took a class in debate and public speaking. It was an elective, and I was beginning to think seriously about becoming a lawyer. I learned a lot in that class! First, I learned that I was not very good at memorizing speeches; I preferred extemporaneous speaking. And I learned debating different sides of a political issue sort of bored me. I learned also that I could not really talk about something passionately if I did not believe it was important. I think that experience sort of made me think less about becoming a lawyer and more about becoming a priest. School is a time to try something to see how it affects your heart as well as your mind.  And when an education engages the heart of a young person, then whole worlds open up. I think that from that debate class I gained a desire to explore what other kinds of education I would need to be able to do something my heart could be committed to. 

Going to school, and staying in school is necessary for a lot of reasons. But the heart reasons are as important as the mind reasons. A well-trained mind is not of much use if there is not a committed heart behind it. Yes, our children need to learn a lot of stuff to succeed in this life, but along the way they need to learn that how to make the stuff they have to learn fit into a sense of purpose and hope. Our young people need to know that some things that are worthwhile can be scary at first (like the first day of school). But that the scariness can be tamed, and good can come from making the effort. And they need to learn that there are some things you will find hard to do (like learning the times tables), and that a sacrifice is needed for you to be able to do it. But through all this, you are not alone, there are people who can help you, and who want to help you succeed. I still recall gratefully the kindness and patience of my teachers who helped me learn how to multiply. 

In the end, if our children do not stay in school, it is because they think they can make more money in other, often illegal, ways. Only a heart touched by kindness can recognize that life is not just about the money you can make, but also about the good you can do. That's a lesson that comes from realizing  that the talents and gifts God gives to us imply a responsibility to develop and use them well, not just for our own economic gain, but for the good of others. Sometimes our kids leave school because they don't see a way to succeed, or they feel alone in the struggle to fit in or to do well. That is why it is so important that we adults take seriously our responsibility to accompany them through the educational journey: to let them know that they can succeed, that they can let their hearts be touched by kindness, and they are not alone.  

Maybe we adults get discouraged by the obstacles our children have to face. To you, I say, don't give up. Remember what you learned in school: worthwhile things sometimes require a sacrifice, and we are in this together. You are not alone. There are people who can help. 

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