Maryknoll Father Romane St. Vill Helps His Fellow Haitians Rise Up From Crisis

Carolyn Woo, the new president and CEO of Catholic Relief Services, recently told America Magazine that, "Relief work is not over as soon as you put a shelter on top of a person and they can be fed and [given] medical care." With their homes and livelihoods destroyed or in peril, she went on, we have to ask ourselves, "What about the rest of their lives?"

I noted a distressing parallel last night at an economic justice forum at Seattle's St. James Cathedral. Michael Reichert, president of Catholic Community Services of Western Washington, noted that since the economic crisis in the United States, his organization has been forced to move almost entirely from programs and initiatives of hope and growth for those struggling economically, physically, and/or psychologically, to solely focusing on meeting basic needs such as food, clothing, and housing. Obviously, these are needs that must be addressed immediately, but as Mr. Reichert noted, our concern and love for those in need must move beyond this first, vital step. We must help people to participate in the fullness of life, and must ourselves participate in that fullness through love, compassion, and solidarity.

I was struck by this in reviewing some of Maryknoll's current efforts in Haiti. As you know, the earthquake which struck two years ago took the lives of many, destroyed homes, and left many others traumatized and living in unsanitary and dangerous conditions. Despite an initial outpouring of generosity from around the world, Haiti still struggles immensely, and stands more than ever in need of our love and support. Knowing this, I was heartened to read from Maryknoll priest Romane St. Vil, who is originally from Haiti, of the efforts being made to work with local communities to help people lift themselves up from this desperate situation.

Fr. Romane notes that until May of last year, Maryknoll's efforts in Haiti focused primarily on providing medical assistance to inhabitants of tent cities around Port-Au-Prince and Leogane. This medical assistance has been done in a spirit of solidarity and partnership, with Haitian doctors and nurses working alongside their non-Haitian counterparts, providing free consultation and medicine to about 400 patients a day.

Fr. Romane notes also that, in the past two years, they have also trained nearly 80 people from local communities in Trauma Healing. (An important ministry, he adds, as roughly 90% of the people have been traumatized by the disaster.) Maryknoll Father Dennis Moorman and Maryknoll Sister Efu Nyaki, experts in trauma healing, recently completed three weeks of trauma work in Haiti, providing two seminars to 38 participants. They also worked alongside people from the communities in which they served that had received training in trauma healing. Currently, Fr. Romane is trying to fund the construction of three trauma centers - one in Port-Au-Prince, one in Cite Soleil, and one in Leogane.

Maryknoll's work in Haiti also includes helping people leave the tent cities, helping people to pay rent once they have accessed stable housing, and currently sending 26 kids to school, covering tuition, books, transportation, and food. In addition, Maryknoll is in the process of building a school in collaboration with a sister's congregation, replacing a school that had been destroyed by the earthquake. More pointedly, this school will serve disadvantaged students, charging little to no tuition and fees. Fr. Romane is also involved in helping two local parishes build schools.

Clearly, the efforts by Maryknoll in Haiti highlight the call to answer basic survival needs such as medical care and housing, but also the need to work with people to build their own communities. Maryknoll is working with local people and churches to meet the needs on the ground - not imposing our own view of the way forward in Haiti, but learning what is important to those suffering and helping to leave lasting training and institutions that can continue to meet those and other needs. The work of Fr. Romane, Fr. Dennis, Sr. Efu, and the local parishes and people with whom they work, serves as a model for building up our own communities and confronting the needs within our neighborhoods, cities, states, country, and the world at large.

How can you help build your community? How can you help those who are struggling? How can you grow in understanding, solidarity, and love? The first step in figuring out our own role in addressing the needs of others is recognizing that we have a role in the first place. Maryknoll priests, brothers, sisters, and lay missioners are all people that are actively working to discover what small but ultimately immeasurable role they play in God's mission. Though others of us may not be called to religious life or a life of total service, we are still called by God to love and justice.

View Video of Fr. Romane and Haiti

Gung Hay Fat Choy!

Yesterday I went to St. Leo the Great Parish to celebrate the Chinese New Year Mass in my old neighborhood.  Sally, a friend of Maryknoll had invited me saying she thought it was important to attend because of the special relationship between China and Maryknoll (it was the first Mission over 100 years ago).  Other than Bishops Cordileone and Cummins and one other priest, I was the only non-Asian person and nearly everything was in Mandarin, a language about which I studied for 2 semesters and never mastered even the basics.  I was warmly welcomed by several people including priests and soon felt comfortable.  I reflected on how important it is to feel accepted when in an unfamiliar environment and whether I do enough to welcome the strangers in my midst. 

 Bp. Cordileone delivered the homily.  He mentioned the hardships that the Chinese people endure in their country trying to live their Catholic faith and conceded that the people sitting in the pews could deliver his homily better than he could.  We have so much freedom here in the U.S., despite our problems with leadership and financial corruption. Being reminded of how our brothers and sisters around the world struggle just to practice their faith puts things into perspective. Just as Catholics struggle to practice their faith in China, so many more struggle to earn a just wage in a just working environment that won't leave them crippled or so despondent they lose the will to even live.  I grappled with how my lifestyle in my country perpetuates their suffering in their country.

I didn't understand the lyrics but the choir and music was so sublime, it just didn't matter; I knew they were singing praises to the God we all worship.  At the end of Mass, there were thanks expressed to the musicians, choir, bishops, and last but not least, to God.  Yes, with smiling faces turned upwards, God received a rousing round of applause! 

 Then came the traditional ceremony that honors the ancestors.  A gentleman explained that Catholics do not engage in ancestor worship, that only God is worshiped, but that ancestors can still be honored.  A chant was then recited in Mandarin and the priests and bishops gathered around a special altar with incense and a ritual took place to honor all the ancestors.  I reflected on all the Maryknollers who have gone before us, especially those who served in China, and felt a remarkable connection! Upon leaving, the bishops handed out the traditional red envelopes with a dollar inside to ensure everyone would have a prosperous Year of the Dragon!  Gung Hay Fat Choy!

The best explanation I've heard for the Trinity: It is like a Father and a Son playing frisbee in the front yard.  Where's the Holy Spirit you ask?  It's the love that is shared between the Father and the Son as they commune with one another.

Are You Called to Mission?

Bonhoeffer's Mission Year

Sometimes a book comes to you at the exact right moment in your life, when you can immerse yourself in - and even by transformed by - its words. Such has been the case in my current reading of Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy by Eric Metaxas. When Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the great Lutheran theologian and social activist, left his home in Germany to visit the United States in 1930, he almost certainly did not see it as a "mission" encounter. Too young to be ordained as a Lutheran minister, he traveled to New York to study theology and to site-see. True to his adventurous and inquisitive spirit, he traveled much of the Eastern and Southern US with friends he had made in New York, even taking a road trip to Mexico, camping out in farmland along the way.

We tend to think of "mission" as the opportunity to do, but Bonhoeffer's year in the United States stands as a powerful example of simply opening one's heart and eyes. While in the United States, Bonhoeffer witnessed firsthand the rampant segregation and dehumanization of Black Americans at the time. It shook him greatly, and though he made many friends in America, he spent much of his time with one, in particular: Frank Fisher, a Black seminarian involved in a Harlem church. Bonhoeffer taught Sunday school classes at the Harlem church, and found himself extremely inspired by the profound spirituality, zeal, and social involvement of Black churches throughout the country. (Not to mention the music: he listened to and shared recordings of Black spirituals throughout his life.) Though already a brilliant theologian, Bonhoeffer for the first time began to see the value of attending church services, prayer, and lived expression of the Gospel call to love and justice.

In fact, he wrote to one of his brothers that he feared that he was spending too much of his focus in the United States on what was then termed the "Negro problem," since he there was "no comparable situation in Germany." The irony, as the author points out, is that while Bonhoeffer was away from his homeland, the Nazi Party was rising to power. Students of history know also that the Jewish people in Europe had a long history of being discriminated against and oppressed, but Bonhoeffer had lived a relatively sheltered life in this regard.

Nonetheless, his experience in the US transformed him. Beyond his experience of segregation, he also formed a strong friendship with a French student also studying in the US. At the time, of course, Germany and France were still bitter enemies following the terrible First World War. Bonhoeffer's new friend argued constantly with Bonhoeffer about the centrality of the Beatitudes to Christian life. It was not until viewing the film of "All Quiet on the Western Front", which exposed the horrible nature of the war, that Bonhoeffer became converted to his friend's message. As the two sat in their seats and watched the battles take place, they were, according to Metaxas, brought to tears. At the same time, American children in the audience cheered each French death.

Bonhoeffer did not go to the United States to "do" mission work. Instead, he opened himself up to the world, became intimately involved in a local church community, and found his heart moved profoundly to justice, the dignity of each human being, and the central notion that Christ must be alive in our hearts, with all its implications. He returned to his home country and began to preach this message, and how it countered the rampant nationalism and antisemitism that had swept the Nazi's into power.

Bonhoeffer's journey to America was a journey of self-conversion. It was a journey in which he began as a student of Scripture, and became a follower of Christ. What he learned about himself on that journey prepared him to face the challenges of his own nation, his own church - challenges that would have been unimaginable when he left. For me, Bonhoeffer's experience represents not only a movement of the Holy Spirit, but the ultimate mission call to be alive in Christ. Bonhoeffer did not go to be transformed, but he allowed God to touch his heart.

Did Jesus Ask for a Resume?

When I first began working for Maryknoll, it became clear that my job would be difficult to explain to other people. Unlike the priests, brothers, sisters, and lay missioners in the Maryknoll family, I cannot easily identify myself as a "missioner" to others. Unlike the Maryknoll employees that develop our magazines and videos, I do not have a readily-identifiable job title. (Mission Promotion Coordinator is not exactly illuminating to the outside world!)

I ran into this dilemma about a month after beginning my current position. I was returning home to Seattle from our regional office in California, about to board a flight. The man sitting next to me asked me why I had been traveling, and explained that it was for work. He then asked me what I did, and I explained that my job is to educate and inspire people in the United States to mission. I am sure that I explained, somewhere in there, what is meant by "mission." Even then I knew that it is a term that few understand in a modern context, and that many may even challenge. But the man look directly at me and asked, rather skeptically, "What qualifies you to inspire other people?"

I'll admit that I was a little taken aback. I quickly ran through my list of accomplishments and accolades in the work world, but the man was unimpressed. Sadly, the conversation did not go much further, beyond me asking a few questions about his work. Looking back on this now, though, it strikes me that both his question and my response present the limitations of our modern outlook. What qualifies you to inspire others? He required some sort of "stamp of approval," indicating why I deserved the position that I held. And I, foolishly, fell into the trap of believing that I do somehow deserve this position. I wish that I had answered, truthfully, "Nothing, but here I am."

Indeed, this could have been the response given by any of Jesus' disciples. The Gospels are ripe with evidence of their ineptitude, their doubt, and the undeniable conclusion that these were ordinary people responding to an ordinary call. The idea that we must be uniquely qualified may be one of the greatest obstacles that many of us face in answering that call. We leave great works to "great" women and men. We admire and we adulate, but we do not participate.

I was struck, though, this afternoon when Fr. Tom, the director of our Seattle Mission House, and myself were struggling to get a new table into the house. Working our way up the steps, a young man on his way to work came running up and offered to help. He helped us get the table into the basement, and I spoke for a few minutes with him. I learned that he worked for an after school program, and that he was on his way to meet a group of the kids at a different school and walk them to the program, which he did every day. His unprompted kindness certainly inspired me, but I did forget to ask for his credentials.

Advent Reflection: True Peace

Seasons Greetings!

It would be nice if Superman was real. At least, that's what I caught myself thinking recently while driving home. I was listening to a story on the radio about drug cartels in Nuevo Laredo, Tamaulipas Mexico. There, ordinary citizens have been taking to the Internet to report cartel activity in order to keep their streets safe (for instance, they might report that a shootout is occurring on a certain block). In response, the cartels have killed many of these people, displaying their bodies publicly as a means of intimidation.

Alone, this story would be distressing, but it just so happened that, on the same day of hearing this story, Fr. Tom Marti had shared with me the homily spoken at the funeral Mass of Father Fausto Tentorio, PIME, an Italian missionary priest and witness to Christ's justice who was assassinated recently in the Philippines. And so, I thought, Wouldn't it be great if Superman were here? Drug cartels and military squads certainly would not be able to stop him as easily as they can stop the rest of us.

With Christmas upon us, though, I began to reflect on the birth of Christ. Like me, many people of Christ's time were hoping for a "Superman" of sorts - a leader that would liberate them and establish God's Reign through a military victory. Instead, God sent the Son to us through Jesus. Through his birth, the witness of his life and, ultimately, his death and resurrection, we see not the power of God's fist, but the power of God's love. He liberates us not through war and violence, but through the joy of witnessing his message to one another, of sharing in that love. And it is only through this love, through our very selves as God's hands, that this world will see an end to violence.

Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke of the difference between positive and negative peace. The latter, which is the absence of violence but also the absence of love, respect, human dignity, and justice, might well be achieved if Superman were around. Indeed, in many places we can already see this "peace": we commend a lack of public violence while ignoring all of the pain, anger, and injustice brewing just beneath the surface. But positive peace, the peace of love and justice which is, ultimately, the Reign of God on Earth, can only be achieved through the Way of Christ.

So, this Advent season, let us rejoice at the coming of the Lord! Let us not ignore the suffering taking place all around us, but take solace in the fact that God has made known the means of our salvation.