Saturday, April 13, 2013

Spring is Finally Here!



Spring is finally here!

Flowers blossom, tree buds open.

Green advances by the hour.

Sky blue, hard heat,

then dark, wet storms roll through




Clouds dip down like fiery smoke on the mountain tops,

moistening the ground for the surprise

of shoots of yellow and laughing faces in the sun.


Thursday, April 11, 2013

A Home Where Jesus Dwells

In the heart of Mary, every human longing for the Mystery of God is overwhelmed by the miracle of Divine love, the miracle that transforms the universe: Jesus.

Mary is a living person, right now. The fact that she has always been free from sin doesn't make her any less human. Mary's immaculate heart is a profoundly human heart. The purity of Mary gave her, from the beginning, an aspiration that was utterly genuine, a vital space where God Himself could dwell with the human race. Mary is mother of God and mother of each one of us.

Let us remember the closeness of Mary, the tenderness in the way she looks at us. She understands each of us, and knows how to shape us and foster our growth. She makes our lives into a home where Jesus dwells. The Holy Spirit lives in her. He works powerfully through her intercession. She holds us “in the crossing of her arms,” in her heart, and it is there that the Holy Spirit forms the new life of Christ in us.

All-pure, loving, Immaculate Heart of Mary, my Mother, obtain for me conversion and trust in Jesus.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Pope Francis and the Patience and Mercy of God

Pope Francis continues to place before us the face of God's mercy, his tenderness, his patience, his gift of ineffable love that is greater than our weakness: "The Lord saves us by his love: not with a letter, nor with a decree, but with his love."

God's love comes first. He has loved us, in a way beyond our understanding. "God did not wait for us to go to him, but he moved towards us, without calculation, without measures." He gives himself without measure, all way to the end, to the whole depth of our lives, asking us to open our hearts so that his love can change us and empower us to come out of ourselves, to love him and one another, to become a new creation in him. His mercy probes each of us; he who knows each of us more intimately than we know ourselves calls us and draws us, and makes conversion possible.

"On the cross, Jesus loved me and gave himself for me. Each of us can say, He loved me and gave himself for me. Everyone can say that for me."

And in his preaching, Francis even gives us a voice. He gives words to our own hearts:

"Lord, I believe.
I believe in your love.
I believe that your love has saved me.
I believe that your love has given me
the dignity that I did not have.
I believe that your love gives me hope."

"Lord, I am here,
accept my poverty,
hide my sin in your wounds,
wash it away with your blood."

Jesus calls us to believe in his love, to trust in him.

"Don’t be afraid, go to him, he is waiting for you, he will take care of everything. We hear many offers from the world around us; but let us take up God’s offer instead: his is a caress of love. For God, we are not numbers, we are important, indeed we are the most important thing to him; even if we are sinners, we are what is closest to his heart."

"How beautiful is the gaze with which Jesus regards us – how full of tenderness! Let us never lose trust in the patience and mercy of God."

Monday, April 8, 2013

"Pathophobia": On Freedom, Sickness, and Being Human

Suicide has been in the news again. I pray for the Warrens, and entrust the soul of their son Matthew to the infinite mercy of God.

I know very little about Rick Warren's work as an evangelical minister or his famous books. It doesn't matter. He's a human being, and a father. His wife Kay is a human being, and a mother. Along with thousands of other people, I sent them each a tweet expressing sympathy and solidarity. It won't reach them personally, but that doesn't matter. Solidarity is in the heart, and the human heart is the original "social network" and remains the only one that's necessary; the one that gives value to all communication. Twitter has some value, if it can be used to express a work of mercy.


I wish I could say I'm surprised and shocked by suicide, but I'm not. The awful fact is that it happens all the time.

It happens to "nice" people. It happens to people who "look normal" on the outside. It happens to good people, loving people, admirable and heroic people. I'm quite sure that you know and love people who struggle with impulses toward suicide or lesser forms of self-inflicted personal harm.

And I cannot stress this point enough: These are "regular" people! I'm not just talking about "crazies" here. I'm not just talking about people in straight jackets, people living in the streets, drug addicts, sociopaths, or terrorists. I'm not just talking about people like Monk who are always straightening picture frames and arranging the food on their plate, or people who are generally considered "weird," or even people who have especially melancholy temperaments.

I'm talking about your friends, neighbors, children, parents, spouses, teachers, students and co-workers. I'm talking about people who may be active in your parish, who volunteer for stuff, and - yes - I'm talking about your priests, your good and holy priests (who have never harmed anyone or stolen anything, who have nothing to hide and no reason to feel this way). 

Often suicide can be prevented (which is one reason why we should try the best we can to take care of people suffering from mental illness, and why we should pray for them). But there are times when it just seems to devour a person like an implacable monster.

We have to keep fighting the monster, and never allow ourselves to get discouraged even if it appears that the monster has won.

It is never good for a human person to end his or her life. But there are various ways that this can occur, and so it is important to be as clear as possible about the context of such an event.

Anyone who knowingly and freely chooses to kill themselves commits a serious sin against the loving God who gives life, and whom we must always trust, no matter how desperate or painful our circumstances. Suicide is never the answer. It is not "death with dignity" in the face of a terminal disease or any other problem. To choose suicide is always wrong, and to help someone else commit suicide is always wrong. Of course, we cannot judge another person's heart, and we know nothing about what might transpire in that final moment. We continue to hope and pray for the person, knowing that God's mercy can still work miracles at the moment of death, even while we recognize the evil and destructive nature of this action.

However, with our increasing understanding of the complexities and subtleties of human pathology, we find it likely that many instances of self-inflicted death are not chosen as such. Rather, they are obscure events of human behavior that are driven, in part or perhaps entirely, by a relentless disease that results in a neurological breakdown. It seems that mentally ill people can become altered in their brain functioning to the point where their judgment and freedom must wrestle with deeply distorted perceptions and impressions of themselves and their environment.

There is something truly dramatic about this struggle. Human freedom is called into play, as it is in any other sickness or suffering. It has its triumphs and its failures, which may be invisible to us and even to the person who fights in the darkness. No doubt, the Enemy of the human race is involved as well. The one whom Jesus calls "a murderer from the beginning" will make trouble wherever there is an opening for it. Those who accompany a mentally suffering person should "put on the armor of God" and use the weapons of prayer and sacrifice, and of course the sacraments.

But do not underestimate the devastating force of the diseases that afflict the brain--this most delicate organ of the human body that we have only begun to understand.  The human being is a unity of the spiritual and the material, of soul and body. Human knowing and loving work within the context of sensation and images. Even though they are spiritual, they draw from and are expressed in bodily reality, and to this extent they are "dependent" on the brain. This is obvious when we consider the fact that we cannot perform significant acts of human responsibility when we are asleep. Our capacity to understand can be hindered and distorted by a brain injury, or by alcohol or other chemical substances that interact with brain functioning.

Clearly, then, diseases of the brain can impair human judgment and even bring about substantial disability. Given the brokenness of a human nature affected by original sin in so many ways, it would be amazing if there were not a wide spectrum of problems in the functioning of the body's most complex and intricate organ.

How do we heal a sick brain? How do we keep our brains healthy? These questions make it clear that medicine, like life itself, is primarily an art. Medicine makes extensive use of science, but ultimately it must be practiced on a particular human person. Moreover the brain is not isolated; it is an integrated part of the whole organism of the body, and shares in its vicissitudes. The art of medicine continues to develop in this area, along with all the arts that constitute healthy living. Our world has the potential to accomplish much that is good for human health and well being, for opening new vistas and bringing healing to human places that are difficult to find and burdened with indescribable suffering.

But lets get rid of the stigma of "mental" illness. Once and for all. It doesn't help anything.

There is no real reason why a brain ailment should be considered more shameful than a heart ailment or a liver ailment. The difficulty is that it has more direct and pervasive effects on human behavior, and is therefore more invasive of human interiority. Moreover, we have no illusions of control here; our remedies are fragile and temporary, and the causes and cures elude us.

The symptoms of a brain illness make it clear to us that our humanity consists in the union of soul and body. What afflicts the human body afflicts the human person. This makes us afraid. It makes us want to distance ourselves. It tempts us to isolate the sufferer, because otherwise we might have to look at him or her and see the reflection of ourselves, and our own suffering.

Here is a challenge for our culture that no one wants to confront. Here is a form of discrimination that everyone practices and no one denounces. In a sense, its very much at the root of our common problem. One might even coin a sociological term of reference for it, although its not likely to catch on:

Pathophobia.

Pathophobia. The fear of suffering. The dread of suffering. The full scale flight from suffering, or the cover up of real suffering with fake solutions, and then the marginalization of those whose problems we cannot pretend to have solved.

But the fear only grows. We need the audacity of humility. We need to acknowledge that the human project is cracked at its foundation. None of us can fix it. But humility frees us to hope for a renovation, nonetheless.

We must see that we are all small and broken and we feel endangered by the world, and by each other. And yet we aspire to an endless life. We are afflicted in every way, and yet we aspire to live in the image and likeness of God.

Let us direct this aspiration, and let it be shaped into the recognition and supplication of the One who corresponds to our dignity and our need. And let us take care of one another. Let us be compassionate and merciful to one another.

Saturday, April 6, 2013

I Throw Myself Upon the Mercy of God

Mercy Sunday is at hand. We have prayed the Novena during Easter week, as always. And I find myself among the lukewarm, once again...yet I still am offered the hope of running to Him, to Jesus whose compassion knows no bounds, Jesus who can change my heart. Jesus, help me!

I am a word maker. So I bring my words to Him, hoping He can use even words. It seems that He does use these poor words, in His way, mysteriously, according to a wisdom that will remain forever beyond me. So I place my confidence and my smallness and my weakness in Him. Jesus.

What can I do other than throw myself upon the mercy of God? I have the gift of expressing myself. I know that words are straw, but there is a place for straw in life and the task of making straw has been given to me. I will make straw.

I am a human being and I have met Jesus Christ. I express that humanity in words, inadequate words, sentimental words tinged with my own vanity; words that make it sound too easy, and that give me the false appearance of being "wise" as I toy with mysteries. All these words. All this straw.

My dear friends who are reading these words: I want you to know that in this feeble effort to give of myself, and with hope in Jesus, I make this straw for you. Use it for your bed. Throw it in your fire and be warmed. Let it dry up the damp ground under your feet. Find something in it.

From my own struggle, what I want you to see is that Mercy is at work. In all my efforts and words the great hope is that you might see His mercy. Because of Him, I am bold enough to hope that you might find it, even in me, in the midst of my many words.

Look for Him. Discover the beauty of His face. I know it's not as easy as it sounds. I know that. But still, He is here, and He is real.

Mercy is at work in the world, in me, and in you.

Friday, April 5, 2013

This Says It All

When I say
"Jesus,"
I feel strong,
I feel I can work,
and I know that He is with me,
that He keeps me safe.

--Anonymous Humble Man,
Buenos Aires, Argentina



(Quoted by Pope Francis in his homily this morning. Amen, brother, and thank you.)

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

John Paul II: "Every Person Matters...Even You"

April 2 was the eighth anniversary of the death of Blessed John Paul II. But when I remember him, my mind reaches back over a long stretch of time.

It was the spring of the year 1986. I was 23 years old, and deeply immersed in mental suffering that was, in part, due to my as yet undiagnosed depression and obsessive compulsive disorder. I turned to the writings and talks of Pope John Paul II.

I had read him before, many times. But here I read him with a anguished, searching heart. And my heart recognized something in those words, and in the energy of the man who had expressed them. It was as if everything he said shined with an implicit but unmistakable truth: "God loves you. God loves every human person. God wants to draw particularly close to every human person in this time, in this age when so many have forgotten Him. God wants to glorify His mercy. Do not be afraid."

Here were words that came from a living man, a witness of my own time. The media made his presence in our world accessible in other ways. His face was in pictures and on television. I could see and hear his gestures and his voice with all of its great strength and tenderness. Although I did not "know" him, his particular humanity burst through all of the indirect and partial glimpses of multimedia and addressed me head on.
"Every person matters. Every person, absolutely every human person has been created by God and is loved by God. And that means that even you, John, are loved by God."
And I felt that I was loved, personally, by the man who was living such a compelling witness in front of the world. I "met" him in a dialogue of mind and heart, and through him, I met Jesus Christ in a new way--a way that has remained fundamental to my identity and my way of looking at life.

I discovered Jesus not just as a subject for theological study but as a Person who is really there "on the other side" of my prayers, who loves me, who is active in my life and who enables me to love Him.

Thank you, Jesus, for the life and witness of Blessed John Paul II. Thank you, Jesus, for this great family, the Church!

Monday, April 1, 2013

Pope Francis's Challenge: Is He Talking to Me?

Pope Francis is challenging me in many ways. His preaching and witness strike me in a way that I cannot ignore. He doesn't make harsh demands, but he says and does things that challenge me to let my heart grow, and to become more aware of the concreteness of God's love in this world.

For example: "Go out to the margins...." Thus he challenges the Church. He has demonstrated what this phrase means, by his actions. For years as a bishop, he has "gone out to the margins" by actually going to the slums, to the poor, to the drug rehab centers, to the victims of human trafficking, to the elderly and the sick and the cardboard shacks and the garbage pickers and the crack heads and all kinds of people who actually smell bad. Not to mention sinners and unbelievers. Its a stunning example.

But what does it mean for me? How am I challenged by this? How am I supposed to respond to the Pope's call? My reaction to this is strangely defensive.
I feel like saying, "Hey, man, I go to the margins plenty. What, am I supposed to go live with the poor? We live on the margins of spiritual and cultural poverty! I'm trying to raise my family in the Catholic faith, and educate my children and others to be able to resist the dictatorship of relativism. I'm not part of the self-satisfied, 'spiritually worldly' Church, no way! Those are the cafeteria Catholics, and they certainly need to be shaken up. But I'm doing plenty. I've given all my energy, broken my health, and still make material sacrifices every day for the sake of the teaching vocation that my wife and I share. I'm doing a lot. In fact, I'm 'the poor': how about somebody else coming out to take care of me? I'm always helping people; maybe they're not drug addicts but they have problems, and still... I'm the one who needs help! I'm still sick and crazy and exhausted. I'm barely hanging on, I'm definitely going to the margins, I'm doing enough, I'm... I'm... I'm... I... I... I!!!"
JJ, stop it! *slap, slap* (metaphorically). You're overreacting, as usual. He's not talking to you! (the italics here is my Alter Ego responding; it may also be the reaction of some of my readers - if there are any who have actually read this far...) He's not talking to you!
["He's not talking to me? Oh, good. Whew!"]
He's talking to those fat cats in the Roman Curia, and to all those bad people whose names are in the secret Vatileaks report! He's talking to those lazy bishops, and the Big Money people who don't care about the poor, and the Big Government people who don't care about the poor, and those theologians who do nothing but talk (and talk badly), and those people who think the Church is just an NGO, and all those other self satisfied bad people. Not you! This is about orthodoxy and caring for the poor. You've always been in favor of orthodoxy and caring for the poor.
Now I'm thinking, "Hmmm. My Alter Ego has a point. I've always 'been in favor of' orthodoxy and caring for the poor. Of course I'm overreacting. I'm not like those bad people. I should say, 'Good for you, Pope Francis, you tell 'em,' because I agree with him. In fact, it will be fun to have a new way of judging people. Now I can say, 'Do these people go to the margins or are they just spiritually worldly and self satisfied?'"
"I'm fine. I'm not challenged here. He's not talking to me. I don't have to change anything."

Jesus said to his disciples, "Whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it" (Matthew 10:38-39).
Jesus was talking to me here. Have I "lost my life for His sake"?
Jesus said, "This is my commandment: that you love one another as I have loved you" (John 15:12).
Do I love the way He loves?
Maybe I need to think of this in a different way. We are all being challenged to "go out to the margins," although perhaps our "margins" are not the slums that surround the city of Buenos Aires. Each of us is called to a total love, to a complete giving away of ourselves. Many of us need to start "going out" in the very basic sense of actually paying attention to the persons God has given us in our lives. Pope Francis is continually reminding us that we must help each other, we must take care of each other.

The fundamental "margin," for me, is my "self." In fact, I would go so far to say that I must first of all love myself, but that means loving my real self, not the egocentric whirlwind of chaotic appetites and self-obsession that I am always trying to protect.

My real self exists in total dependence on God, in relation to God, in the image of God, and destined to share in the glory of God. "I" exist as a gift of Love and a vocation to love. The life of myself consists in loving. If I do not "go out" in love I get "sick" (as Pope Francis has also said). Eventually I die.

Go out to the margins! God is at the margins, as my origin and my destiny, and in Jesus as the One who is present in my life and calls me to share in His Divine life. This presence and this call come through the human persons and the real circumstances of my life, and especially the gifts of grace given by Jesus in the Church, in the sacraments, in the path of a concrete vocation.

"So I must love Jesus in the Church and in people" ... ah yes, but this not a package that I can just get and hold onto. Its a life that grows and changes, that is full of God's "surprises" (Pope Francis, again). If I am really following Christ and loving Him, I'm going to start noticing poverty. I will discover those who hunger for bread and also those who hunger to be treated like human beings, to know that they have value, that they are loved, that they are not alone. I cannot satisfy the ultimate hunger of any person, but I can help them and they can help me. We can care for each other and travel the road to our destiny together.

Life doesn't happen unless we respond to reality. We must "go out" in response to the whole of the reality of our lives which is given to us by Jesus. We must pay attention to everything, all the way "to the margins," which many of us already know can mean a lot of personal risk. The margins are in our marriages and families, in our work and our suffering, in the needs of the community, in the challenge to see every human person as a brother or a sister, made in the image of God.

If we love God, we will seek out and find the poor. We will find many things and we will have a great life, but we will never be satisfied! As long as we live, we will never be able to say, "Okay, that's it. I've loved enough." This mystery is in His hands. The Jesus we follow loved all the way to end, all the way to the Cross, bearing in Himself the poverty of each and all of us. We love Jesus Crucified (as Pope Francis has stressed from the start). We must never be "satisfied."

We must keep going out to the margins with all we have, and keep giving our lives ...giving Jesus who has made us His own and who wants to give Himself to every person. He will lead us to the margins and the persons who need to encounter Him through us.  We go out to the margins, and the margins keep getting bigger, because Love is beyond all our measure.

Sunday, March 31, 2013

Happy Easter Sunday!


Happy Easter from the Janaro family.

We had to take the picture inside because it was too cold out today! Its windy, rainy, and there are only a few brave buds on the trees. I think it may have been warmer on Christmas. But it doesn't matter. Its still Easter. I thank God for this family. We thank God for one another.

Easter Sunday. At the heart of every life, and of all reality, there is a miracle. Love really does win, in the end. We can be free, forever.

Beyond all our dreams, something actually happened.

Mors et vita duello
conflixere mirando:
dux vitae mortuus,
regnat vivus.

Death and life have contended
in that combat stupendous:
the Prince of life, who died,
reigns immortal.

Jesus Christ is Risen, alleluia.
He is Risen indeed, alleluia, alleluia.

May He give you all abundant joy, and a hope that cannot be defeated. God bless you!

Saturday, March 30, 2013

Holy Saturday 2013

Where are you, Jesus?
I can't see you.
It has all been accomplished.
I know that.
Tomorrow is the great Feast.

Why am I still searching for you?
Is this the greatest pain: wanting?
Why do I still "want"?
I want, I want, I want,
its not enough, its not enough.

I know you,
so why am I still looking for you?

Living, and not being finished, is exhausting.

I believe,
I have seen something....
A glimpse that just makes me want more,
makes me expect more from everything.
And I can't control it.

I am dying of this thirst.
And then there is a lance in my heart
that is turning desire into compassion,
and I don't want anyone to be left alone.
I don't want anyone to be left alone.
Is this the greatest pain?

I must leave my room
and run
and search for the dead.

Now I see you!
I see you
and you show me the wounds,
and they are shining.
And you tell me not to be afraid.

Thursday, March 28, 2013

The Hour Has Come

Jesus answered them,
"The hour has come
for the Son of Man to be glorified.
Very truly, I tell you,
unless a grain of wheat
falls into the earth and dies,
it remains alone;
but if it dies, it bears much fruit."

"Now is the judgment of this world;
now the ruler of this world
will be driven out.
And I, when I am lifted up from the earth,
will draw all things to myself."

John 12:23-24; 31-32 

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

This Tremendous Mystery

The Eucharist is Jesus Himself. In this sacrament, He is really, substantially present. This tremendous mystery—His crucified, risen, and glorified body and blood in His once for all infinitely loving offering of Himself—made present every day by His sacred ministers ordained to act as His instruments, ministers who remain men with personalities and struggles and flaws and who need love just like everyone else.

The Lord of the Universe, Mighty God, Prince of Peace; His body, blood, soul, and Divinity are really present in the Eucharist. I can visit Him in any Catholic church. I can, even here in my home, turn to Him inwardly and focus my heart on that concrete Presence, offer Him my love and adoration, and pour out my sorrows to Him. And I can receive Him, my food and drink, my sustenance, in holy communion; thus He nourishes me and draws me into His life.

Some Christians find it hard to bear the “physicality” of the mystery of the Eucharist. But we believe that the Infinite, Eternal God became man and gave us His body and blood on the Cross, so why should we shy away from the Eucharist? After all, it was His idea, not ours: “Take this, all of you and eat, this is my body.” “He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life.” Those are His words, mysterious but wonderful. They are embraced as He is embraced, with an abandonment of ourselves and our own limited mentality; our own calculations of what is possible and what is not possible for God. Only thus can our human hearts expand to participate in the life of the God who is Love.


--from Never Give Up: My Life and God's Mercy by John Janaro (Servant, 2010).
Click the link to learn more about this book!

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Oops...forgot about that one, again!

One way to measure one's lack of progress in Christian and human maturity is to keep a blog. Blogs allow one to look back at the past and see that not much has changed. Here is a post of mine from Holy Week, two years ago. I could have written the same thing about this Lent. The same forgetfulness about something I should be seeking all the time. Still, there is sorrow, and the desire to remember, not just during Lent, but all the time. And so I make this sorrow and desire my prayer to Jesus. Here is the text:

So, how was my Lent? Kinda shabby as usual.
I prayed more. I ate less. I gave up a couple of things I like. Then what was that other resolution? To make an effort to be kind to the members of my family. Hmm. I sort of forgot about that one. Not that I was mean to my family. Okay, I barked a few times at whining children. Mostly I was nice, though. I'm a nice guy.
But that wasn't the point of the resolution. Be Kind. It's a very concrete resolution. It means more attention, more readiness to do good to them, more cheerfulness in the little stuff. "Make an effort" doesn't necessarily require success, but it does require...well...to try, sometimes.
I don't think I tried much at all. I think I pretty much forgot all about it.
Kindness is something different from just "being nice." One can build a wall between one's self and another person by being nice. Although it doesn't have to, "being nice" can degenerate into a way of pretending to be involved in another person's life. One can use "niceness" as a way of touching another person superficially so as to distract one's self and the other from the need for a deeper engagement.
Kindness implies involvement with another person. Kindness is a gift of one's self, in a gentle and simple way, which seeks to affirm the goodness of the other person and make him or her aware of that goodness. Kindness is companionship with the other person in simple words and gestures. Often, kindness is refraining from the assumed familiarity that tends to absorb the other person into the environment of "things" that need to be manipulated for one's own purposes. It means refraining from being sarcastic, curt, bossy, or dismissive.
In families, it's easy to forget courtesy. It's easy to just push one another around. It's easy to forget that one's spouse and children are something more than mobile furniture in the house. It's especially easy for the husband and father to fall into this rut.
Intent on my own (important) purposes, I blow through the house, into the kitchen where I practically run over my wife. "Excuse me," I say (nicely), but at that moment she is just an object in my way. Then there are so many impatient utterances: "I'm in the bathroom!" - "Put that thing away!" - "Get out of there!" - "Clean up this mess!" I'm not the only one who speaks this way. We all do it to each other.
Then there are the countless opportunities to show attention and concern that just pass by, because I am too busy, too self-absorbed, or just don't feel like bothering. Love is diminished.
Okay, I don't want to beat this to death. After all, we are a normal family. We love each other very much, and we are often kind to one another. But, of course, we need more kindness. We need more generosity of spirit toward one another, more affirmation, more gentleness, more attention. Lent is a time to remember this need. It was a simple resolution.
But, for the most part, I forgot.
Jesus was kind to those who crucified Him. He prayed that they might be forgiven. "Love is patient, love is kind...." Simple, authentic kindness. It seems like a little virtue, but in the end it is a form of mercy.
I have a few days left. As we commemorate the gift of Christ's love for the whole world, and as we strive to love Him and to imitate Him, and to receive His mercy, I pray for the grace to remember, even once, to make an effort to be kind to the people in my life that I love most and so easily take for granted.

Monday, March 25, 2013

Oscar Romero: Stop the Repression...of Any Human Life!

The Servant of God Oscar Romero
On the evening of March 24, 1980, Archbishop Oscar Romero was shot and killed as he began the offertory of the Mass in the chapel of Divine Providence hospital in San Salvador. For three years he had preached fearlessly against the growing violence in his archdiocese and in his homeland of El Salvador.

There is a bravery about the basic story line of Romero that is deeply inspiring, that resonates powerfully in the human soul. In the years after his death his heroic image has been used to promote all sorts of political agendas. He is widely admired in the affluent secularized Western culture, which nevertheless keeps his true figure at a safe distance. But the poor still love him, and have an instinctive sense of the real value of his life.

Oscar Romero always said that his desire was to do God's will in the particular circumstances that had been entrusted to him. He wanted to follow Christ. He was a Catholic bishop immersed in what was the beginning of a long and horrible civil war. He was a Latin American bishop. His lifelong commitment was to be faithful to Christ and to the Church. He defended the dignity of every human person, not simply for the sake of "civil rights" or as the leader of an NGO, but because he loved Jesus Christ.

He served the poor and the defenseless, recognizing that Jesus gives transcendent value to every effort to relieve suffering and render the conditions of life more human, even as He transforms from within the inescapable suffering that must be borne. In loving the poor Romero loved Jesus, incarnate, God made man at the center of history, Jesus living, transfigured, crucified and risen forever.

He truly loved human dignity and fought for real justice against real forces of evil, and it was precisely his recognition of Christ's humanity that empowered him to do so. It was not his own courage, or his sentiments, or his ideology. It was Christ. This is why he could hear the voice of Christ in the cries of his people and in the teaching authority of the Church to which he adhered with unwavering fidelity.

It is also what made him prophetic. For those who want to listen, his voice speaks with consistency about all kinds of human repression. Romero had a clear and simple vision, because it was the Church's vision, which sees that the commitment to real social justice and the defense of the preciousness of human life cannot be separated.

He remains relevant for post-modern Latin America, where the dictators of old are gone but the dictatorship of relativism is growing stronger. He remains relevant for bishops in Latin America and throughout the world, who are still called to defend with their very lives the dignity of every human person, created by God, redeemed by Christ, and destined to be transfigured by His glory.

In this 33rd anniversary of his heroic death, I want to present a few texts of Archbishop Romero. The final text is familiar (along with so much of his great testimony), but the others are not so well known. But they too are the words of a courageous man of faith, a man of the Church, and a man who really loved his people.


I. Notes from the day of his priestly ordination, April 4, 1942:

Yes, Christ!
By your Sacred Heart
I promise to give myself entirely for your glory ...
I want to die this way:
in the middle of work,
fatigued by the journey
 tired and weary ...
I will recall your toils
and they will be the price of redemption.

II. Life, Marriage, and Family:

One of evils of public life in El Salvador was the "discreditable propaganda for, and imposition of, anti-birth policies that are practically castrating our people and are undermining their reserves of morality" (Fourth Pastoral Letter, 1979 #19).
From a sermon: "As one medical student said and, forgive me for saying this: they are castrating our people. There is massive sterilization of women and men. Contraception materials are freely and shamelessly distributed with no fear of punishment. I implore you to reflect seriously on this matter because the source of life is as sacred as life itself and the relationship between woman and man, sanctified in matrimony, has a dual objective: to love one another and to enter into full and complete intimacy with one another not only for pleasure but also for procreation. Therefore the principle of the Church states that every conjugal act has to remain open to life and anything that disrupts life at its very source is a sin against nature" (Sermon, June 17, 1979).
Regarding abortion: "My sisters and brothers, this is a crime. If we experience repression when young women and men as well as adults are killed, then the same must also occur when life is removed from the womb of a woman. The life that is destroyed in a woman’s womb is the same that occurs when a person is assassinated or when the Minister of Education is assassinated. When the child is aborted from the mother’s womb, that child is also assassinated [emphasis mine]. If life is deprived of coming into existence because one is simply seeking pleasure, then this is also an assault on nature" (Sermon, June 17, 1979).


III. Stop the Repression:

A direct appeal to the military and the police: "No soldier is obliged to obey an order contrary to the law of God. No one has to obey an immoral law. It is high time you recovered your consciences and obeyed your consciences rather than a sinful order. The Church, the defender of the rights of God, of the law of God, of human dignity, of the person, cannot remain silent before such an abomination. We want the government to face the fact that reforms are valueless if they are to be carried out at the cost of so much blood. In the name of God, in the name of this suffering people whose cries rise to heaven more loudly each day, I implore you, I beg you, I order you in the name of God: stop the repression" (Homily, March 23, 1980).

The following evening, on the Vigil of the Feast of the Annunciation, a single bullet pierced his heart as he began the offertory prayer of the Mass. His journals and other evidence show clearly that he had offered his life to Christ, although he considered himself unworthy of it. But he died as he had prayed from the beginning, as a priest:

I want to die this way:
in the middle of work.... 

Saturday, March 23, 2013

Life!

Jesus says, “whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.” And in this passage, the word “life” implies the whole of one’s “self,” one’s very person insofar as one feels a satisfaction in mere self-possession.

Why does God require this of us? There is always some part of us that feels that this is just asking too much. I don't even know what it means to "lose myself."

But this is not simply a moral exhortation that Jesus pronounces. Indeed, it is crucial for us to realize that this is not an external mandate that is merely imposed upon us.

It is not as if we could have been happy as human persons by living a life of rational and courteous self-interest, if only the omnipotent God had not decreed this alien and seemingly unnatural requirement of total self-sacrifice as a “condition” for earning some future happiness.

At some level, I am continually tempted to view it in this way. God wants "all of me" but I don't want to give "all of me...yet." This is where the bargaining starts. I want to find some way to give God "enough" for the day so that I can just keep the rest of myself and seek the things I want.

I am afraid to abandon myself completely to God, because I don't trust Him enough. But life is a school in self-abandonment, and God teaches us by His grace to give ourselves. It is original sin, and our own sins, that cause us to fear “losing” ourselves and to perceive this as a suffering that diminishes us.

God teaches us that the need to "lose ourselves" is not an external, imposed command of some capricious omnipotence. Rather, it is at the very heart of what it means "to exist," because existing is a participation in the mystery of Infinite Love.

What we must begin to learn is that “going beyond ourselves” and becoming, continually, a self-gift is the only way that we can truly exist as persons. Persons are created to exist in relationship. Our spiritual intelligence and freedom are the capacities to adhere to reality and “go out of ourselves” in the affirmation of our relation to reality, and in free, loving communion with other persons and God. We lose ourselves, we give ourselves away...not to oppression and slavery, but to the mystery of love, of a fulfillment of existing.

This is “life”!

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

How is it Possible to Live This Way?

I found some words in the archives of this blog, in March of 2012. They were taken from a reflection posted in March of 2011. Now, I am moved to present them again, with numerous revisions in the continuing search for greater clarity. Behind these words are many particular stories, and they continue to happen in new ways. But this is still true, even as these friendships continue and new friendships are born.

Indeed, this is what has opened my life to the world, engendering in me a surprising courage and a greater openness to all kinds of people. I know that this life that has been given to me is worth sharing. This is why I am online, pouring out my reflections and my sufferings and my struggle with temptations to discouragement. I hope, in the midst of all of this stuff, that you might catch a glimpse of the Pearl of Great Price.

I did not begin to take Jesus Christ seriously in my life because I had a mystical vision, or some kind of paranormal experience. I discovered, in a new way, that Christ was real when I met a group of friends who really followed Him, and who also lived life with exuberance, vitality, interest, freedom, and joy.
I met people who were able to be themselves without constraint, who were glad to be alive, who were ready to give and sacrifice themselves and also to have fun, whenever having fun was the appropriate way to respond to the reality at hand. And it is often appropriate, because real human life is full of so much that is ironic, so much that is beyond our control, unexpected, petty, burdensome, so much that is a little bit ridiculous.
In front of real human life, some people are cynical, while others are distracted, detached, or sad. The miracle in front of real human life is cheerfulness, an innocent spirit that is not dislodged by life because it knows the place of everything. It is a playful wisdom. It is joy. It is more than resilient in the face of suffering; it reaches out to others with tenderness; it endures great pain and sorrow with an intrepid patience, with a radiant hope.
I met some people. They were not perfect people. Far from it. They often forgot about this life, betrayed it, and failed, miserably, to live it. They were sinners, but they had a place to bring their guilt and be healed and changed, again and again.
It was a miracle that they lived this life at all, but it was even more amazing that this life continued to be restored, renewed, and to grow deeper. It was stronger than the sins and all the ambiguity of these people. It was continually changing them, drawing them on, building them up. It was a new life, transforming the very real and very human lives of these ordinary people.
And it stirred a question in my soul: "How is it possible to live this way?" What I saw was not an illusion or a dream. It was a fact. And I wanted to live this way too. I wanted this implacable, unconquerable joy and hope at the center of my own life, but I couldn't give it to myself; I couldn't make myself this way.
It was clear that this life was a gift, and that it was only made possible by Someone Else.
This is what converted me to Christ. Not scrupulous religious intensity. Not intellectual brilliance. Not the desire for a safe place to hide. What converted me was meeting a group of people who believed that it might be possible for life to be wonderfully happy after all, even with all its mysterious burdens and suffering. I saw with my own eyes that the life that had been given to us was good and beautiful. I saw that the laughter of children was not a deception destined to end in disappointment. Not because life is easy, but because there is Someone that makes every minute of it worth living, and even embracing with joy.
This is what converted me to Christ: the miracle of human beings who were glad to be alive, who were full of hope, who had found something greater than their fears.

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

The Pope, St. Joseph, and Us: Tenderness and Gratitude

It has been quite a ride this year, from Our Lady of Lourdes Day to St. Joseph's Day. Who would have thought that all of this would happen?

But its no different than anything else in life. We have frequent upheavals that change everything in a short space of time. And there are many more ordinary sorrows and joys, surprises, routines, work and rest, changes, expectations, disappointments. Life will not allow us to stand still. In every circumstance, we find ourselves called forth, summoned. Life points us toward a destination, and places us on the road.

As Christians we know that we are challenged every day to grow in the grace and love of God, to become the person that the Lord wills each of us to be. We are called to be His children, and ultimately to be fulfilled by sharing in His glory. The mercy of Jesus is there to sustain us--His mercy is moved especially by our frailty and poverty--and therefore hope must illuminate every step of the journey.

This year we have arrived at St. Joseph's Day at the end of an ecclesial adventure (and, I suspect, the beginning of another).

But every year, this day is a special celebration of a very personal relationship for me. St. Joseph has been my father-in-faith, my friend, my benefactor for many, many years. He has taken care of me from my student day to marriage, and thereafter, he has taken care of us, the Janaro family. He is just like the Joseph of Sacred Scripture: silent, in the background, ready to take us up in the midst of change and even danger and quietly see to it that we have what we need.

We were determined to name a child after him, as a way of acknowledging his great care for us in the communion of saints. But we kept having girls. We finally got tired of his humble attempts to "hide," and thus our youngest became Josefina. He responded by taking very special care of her.

I talk to St. Joseph every day. I ask him to obtain for me the grace to be the man, the husband, and the father that God wills me to be. I thank him for always being there for us. Ever since the angel came to assure him that he really did have a role in the mystery of the redemption, he has been there to protect and care for Jesus and Mary and the whole world of Mary's children, Jesus's brothers and sisters.

My own fatherly heart is full of gratitude to him. Of course this is truly and fundamentally gratitude to God who is the giver of every gift. But God doesn't just give some abstract or magical kind of help. God makes us "gifts" to one another. God's love generates relationships of persons who share in His love, a communion of persons, a real family.

Grazie San Giuseppe! And, of course, Viva il Papa Francesco!


Saint Joseph appears as a strong and courageous man,
a working man,
yet in his heart we see great tenderness,
which is not the virtue of the weak
but rather a sign of strength of spirit
and a capacity for concern,
for compassion,
for genuine openness to others,
for love.
We must not be afraid of goodness, of tenderness!

Pope Francis
(Homily of Installation Mass, March 19, 2013)



Sunday, March 17, 2013

Happy St. Patrick's Day From the O'Janaros!


"A wee bit Irish (note the shamrock) e tutti Italiano!" A wee bit Irish and all Italian? Is it possible to be "a wee bit" Irish? I don't know.

I am "tutti Italiano"... although Italians don't accept that. They want to know about the regions of my ancestors. Napoli, Potenza, places near Bari, and even Catania in Sicily (there is some dispute about whether Sicily is "really" part of Italy). Some of my ancestors immigrated first to Uruguay. I want to run with that: South American Italian immigrants have, for some reason, suddenly become the coolest people on earth! ;)

I'm not Irish. But I am "Irish-in-law" because Eileen is more than half Irish. The kids, I think, are 31.5% Irish. That seems like more than a "wee bit." Nevertheless, I vote for pasta today over boiled beef and potatoes!

Anyway, this wee bit of a part-Irish lass wishes you all a happy St. Paddy's Day:

Which side of the family does the "ham" come from? ;)

Friday, March 15, 2013

Pope Francis: "The Courage to Persevere..."

Let us not give in to pessimism and discouragement;
we have that firm confidence
which the Holy Spirit gives the Church,
with his mighty breath,
the courage to persevere
and to seek new ways to evangelize,
to bring the Gospel to the ends of the Earth.
The Christian truth is appealing and persuasive
because it responds
to the profound needs of human existence,
announcing convincingly
that Christ is the only Savior
of the whole man and of all men.

Pope Francis

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Josefina's First Thoughts About the New Pope

This conversation actually happened. I am not making this up. I think it reveals something about the emerging mental capacities of a five to six years old child. Or maybe its just Josefina's mind; I'm not sure. She's unique in many ways.

We've been watching all the conclave stuff and talking about it, and now we have Pope Francis. At some point in all of this, Josefina clearly started trying to figure out what was going on. We had told her about it in various ways, of course, but now she was thinking it through herself. Our talking and the television and her own imagination and memory were all active in the process. And she said....

Josefina: "That's the new Pope?"

Me: "Yes."

Her (in an earnest tone, and with a serious expression): "But who will train him?"

Me: "Train him for what?"

Her: "umm...Mass!"

Me: "Oh he doesn't need to be trained to say Mass. He's a priest and a bishop. He's been saying Mass for many years."

Her: "Before?"

Me: "Yes, of course."

Her: "When he was playing baseball?"

?

[REALLY, HONESTLY, I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP!]

....

Me: "Huh? He wasn't playing baseball. What are you talking about?"

Her: "I thought he was one of the Cardinals."

Of course, we all cracked up at this point! Oh no, hahaha! hahaha! "Hahaheh... actually that's a pretty smart connection she made...," I thought.

"No, not this kind of Cardinal!"
I should point out that she was probably thinking of our local summer league baseball team, the Front Royal Cardinals. She's been to a few of those games. Also, Josefina tends to refer to every sport as "baseball" (I wonder why, haha).

So, I tried to explain to her the difference between the Cardinals who play baseball and the Cardinals who elect the Pope. And I also noted, "He's the same age as Papa [my Dad]. How could he be playing baseball?"

She thought about it for a moment and then said: "Did Papa play baseball?"

Woooosh! We're on another topic. :)