One Body

This past Sunday was the celebration of Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit descended upon the apostles, uniting them in God’s love, and inspiring them to continue to live out the message of Jesus Christ. As I sat there listening to the Gospel I was able to picture the apostles. At first they seem confused on how to continue living out Jesus’ message of love. However, upon receiving the Holy Spirit, their confusion
subsides, and they are transformed into people of hope and given the strength to go out and preach His message.

Do you remember those emotions that came as you were returning home after your year of service? It may have been an emotional departure, as you had to say goodbye to the people and the place you grew to love. Many of us may have been confused as to what comes next, or wondering how to honor the experience and keep it alive. Much like the Pentecostal transformation of the apostles, we too, returned to our homes confused, and afraid, seemingly unaware of how or when God might infuse us with the same strength and hope the Holy Spirit laid upon the disciples.

What is remarkable about Pentecost, is that the Holy Spirit did not descend upon the apostles one at a time, in solitude, but together, and as a community of believers. As alumni, we form our own very unique and extraordinary community of believers. We have, together, witnessed the gospel through our experience in Ecuador. We have fallen in love with the people we walked with, and have had our hearts broken by the deprivation that surrounds many of them. We have together learned how to live
simply, receive hospitality, become people of service, and together we have learned how to search for the face of Christ in those we are with.

Cor 1:12 tell us, “Just as a body, though one, has many parts, but all its many parts form one body, so it is with Christ. For we were all baptized by one Spirit so as to form one body”. We are many parts, for certain. Separated by the different years we volunteered, separated geographically, and by the different fields we have entered. Yet we are one body. One body which seeks God, and hungers for justice.

Let us not forget the body of which we form. May we continue to challenge and inspire one another. And in those moments of asking ourselves what our experience in Ecuador meant for us, and how we can live out what we learned through it. Let us pray that we trust in God’s answer to us that “I will show you the most excellent way.” (Cor. 1:31)

Connect with other alumni in your area. And pray for the new volunteers who are preparing to depart for Ecuador. Also, let us pray for the current volunteers, who will soon be entering into our alumni community.

Courage & Wisdom

As we move into our ninth month in Duran, I struggle more and more with the idea of leaving. Just last week, I had a long talk with my boss and mentor, Patricia McTeague, about the possibility of teaching at Fundación Nuevo Mundo for another six months. Our conversation was part of a longer discernment process that began a couple of months ago:

While the volunteer year ends in August, schools in the coastal region run from April to January. Uneasy at the thought of leaving halfway through the school year, I began to contemplate staying until early 2012 a while back. Despite my original inclination, I was torn. For one, I had already accepted admission to law school in the U.S. and was unsure if deferring was prudent. Perhaps more importantly, friends and family had already expected to have me back home this year, and I would be straining a number of personal relationships as well.

After thinking about and praying on this decision for some time, I decided to ask Pat if staying was even an option. She said it was, but that I should talk it over with those close to me first.

Immediately after our meeting, I wrote to my parents. I knew they had been wary of my decision to come here in the first place, so I explained the situation in detail, and asked for their insight. That evening, I gave them a call. Emotions ran high, and we talked for over an hour, parsing the pros and cons. They both felt strongly that law school was the place for me to be come August, but they also felt it was my decision to make, and that they would support me either way. I was unsure what I felt.

The following morning, I got an email from my father. He had said little the night before. In writing, he explained that he had been too worried and surprised to say much, but thankful that I had come to him for advice. That being said, he still thought that I should resume my studies in the fall. Having visited me in February, he felt that I should not let pass the opportunity to develop a critical skill set necessary to address many of the concerns I have encountered during my time in Ecuador.

It was difficult to read this, but I too recognized that in a couple of months it would be time for me to go. I simply was not ready to come to terms with this, for being here has been a true blessing. Indeed, the past nine months have been a difficult, but blessed, learning experience:

It has been hard to sit with friends and neighbors as a witness to situations of overwhelming injustice. It has been hard to see so many lives shaped more by social, political, and economic conditions than by individual decisions. And it has been really hard to recognize that despite my intentions, my actions may have done more harm than good. But for all the hardship, it has been a privilege to be part of a project that works so effectively at providing tangible educational opportunities for many that have been less fortunate in the natural lottery of birth.

I don’t sleep well these days, for I am unsure how I will remain true to the experiences, relationships, and people I have encountered here once I leave. I know I will continue to seriously engage broader questions of education and opportunity for years to come, but I am still unsure how I will seek to address similar situations of inequality in the States, and eventually my native Dominican Republic. In a lot of ways, I don’t know that I can answer this yet. Instead, I trust in seeing through the opportunities that have come my way. In the meantime, I continue to wrestle with these questions, and pray for the courage and wisdom to live my way into the answers.

The Violence of Love

"Easter is itself now the cry of victory. No one can quench the life that Christ has resurrected. Neither death nor all the banners of death and hatred raised against him and against his church can prevail. He is the victorious one!

 

Just as he will thrive in an unending Easter, so we must accompany him in a Lent and a Holy Week of cross, sacrifice, and martyrdom. As he said, blessed are they who are not scandalized by his cross.

 

Lent, thus, is a call to celebrate our redemption in that difficult combination of cross and victory. Our people are well prepared to do so these days: all that surrounds us proclaims the cross. But those who have Christian faith and hope know that behind this Calvary of El Salvador lies our Easter, our resurrection. That is the Christian people's hope."

 

Oscar Romero, March 23, 1980

The Violence of Love

(In: Lenten Longings...Let Yourself Be - page 39)