Throughout the six weeks of Lent I will share some of my own artwork and stories inspired by many of my most beloved saints. These people rose above the limitations put upon them by a cruel and unjust world that pushed them to the margins in order to exemplify the principles of Catholic Social Teaching. These holy people can inspire us to remain prayerful, calm and hope-filled in the midst of anxiety, anger and fear.
Welcome these beloved holy figures into your Lenten prayer routine. They are ideal spiritual companions and guides for the LGBTQ community as well as immigrants living in fear, unhoused people living in poverty, the mentally and physically challenged, the lonely and abandoned and anyone seeking awareness of God’s loving presence in their daily lives. They will remind you that you are not alone in these troubled and troubling times.
St. Óscar Romero, Archbishop of El Salvador(1917- 1980 )
This March 24 will mark the forty-sixth anniversary of St. Óscar Romero’s death. His canonization by Pope Francis in 2018 made him the first designated martyr of the post-Vatican II era. One of the things I love best about St. Óscar was his ability and willingness to evolve with the flow of the Holy Spirit, even when it seemed impossible to do. Such challenging times of change introduce us to our true selves, the selves we were created to be in God’s image and likeness. Our true selves alone bring us joyful peace of mind in the face of fear, anger and resentment—emotions all too prevalent in our world today.
One of the things I love best about St. Óscar was his ability to evolve with the flow of the Holy Spirit, even when it seemed impossible to do.
Óscar was born into a very modest family in rural El Salvador. There, he was apprenticed to a carpenter and learned to make doors and tables as a young boy. After time in a minor seminary, he studied theology in Rome during World War II where hunger, fear and air raid sirens were a daily reality until his ordination in 1942 at 24 years old. Returning to El Salvador to serve as a parish priest, Fr. Óscar developed a love for the poor of his parish as well as a love for Ignatian spirituality. While he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the changes in clerical life Vatican II brought, he was even more disturbed by the tenets of liberation theology that emerged after the Medellin Conference. These new principles emphasized the modern priest’s primary role as a promoter of social justice and change.
However, Óscar’s attitude changed as growing numbers of innocent peasants and pastors were tortured and killed by the National Guard under orders of the military dictatorship which ruled the country. Right wing death squads even circulated flyers with the words, “Be a patriot, kill a priest!” He could no longer hide behind the role of silent pastor when his dear friend Rutilio Grande, a Jesuit priest, was brutally assassinated while driving with several passengers down a country road. Rutilio had been targeted by the army because of his social justice work with the persecuted peasants of his parish.
Anyone who feels abused or threatened in our increasingly anxious world can find in St. Óscar Romero the calming voice of God’s presence.
Bishop Óscar’s unspeakable grief and sorrow led him to newer, deeper awareness of God’s loving presence and Christ’s passion. He was more determined than ever to be the loving shepherd his people needed. Through national radio broadcasts he delivered hope-filled homilies to the suffering people and refugees around El Salvador about Catholic social teaching; and about living with love in the midst of widespread violence and hatred. He celebrated funeral liturgies for murdered priests, sometimes with over one hundred concelebrants.
Because of the constant threats he received everywhere, St. Óscar was certain that his own assassination was inevitable. He prepared himself for it spiritually and mentally throughout the Lenten season of 1980, and preached about the ways in which our crucifixion experiences inevitably lead us to resurrection. He once said, “I wish to affirm that my preaching is not political. It naturally touches on the political and touches people’s real lives.” St. Óscar Romero was shot and killed at the altar while celebrating Mass, making the Body and Blood of Christ come alive in a disturbingly relevant and holy way. St. Óscar was canonized by Pope Francis in 2018.
Anyone who feels abused, shamed, threatened or riddled with anxiety for any reason whatsoever in our increasingly anxious world can find in St. Óscar Romero the calming voice of God’s presence within. As he once said, “There are many things that can only be seen through eyes that have cried.” With that in mind, we can become gifts for one another. St. Óscar Romero, pray for us.
Alfred Delp, S.J. (1907-1945)
Apparently, Alfred Delp was not the easiest guy to get along with in community. He could be an arrogant, self-important, loud-mouthed know-it-all who laughed too loudly and smoked way too many cigars. His request for final vows was turned down twice by his Jesuit provincial, but eventually, he tearfully professed them in a Nazi prison cell in the days leading up to his execution. An ironic location for such a blessed event. Hitler, of all the religious communities and orders he suppressed, had a most special loathing for the Jesuits. That same experience of imprisonment and torture by Nazis that helped him discover within himself the gentle, loving presence of God.
Alfred was convinced that the Nazis were an evil force that had to be reckoned with—one that caused lots of trouble for the Jesuits and their ministries. Alfred did not hide his disdain for the Nazis in his sermons at Mass. He helped Jews escape from Germany into Switzerland. Alfred even joined the Kreisau Circle, the same underground resistance group of which the martyred Lutheran pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer was a member. When the Circle’s well planned assassination attempt on Hitler failed, all the known members of the Circle were imprisoned, subjected to mock trials and sentenced to death. Even though he was not part of the assassination plot, Alfred was jailed in Tegel Prison in Berlin where he was ultimately hanged.
Alfred’s short term in prison is most inspiring, as he was there throughout the Advent and Christmas seasons. While enduring torture and abuse, with hands handcuffed and chained to the wall, Alfred secretly wrote essays and homilies on the coming birth of Christ.
In his powerlessness and pain, he discovered inner peace and hope in the Incarnation.
He shared these reflections using paper and pens smuggled in by his two friends (both named Mary Anne) who were allowed to pick up and return his laundry. These secret allies also brought him unconsecrated hosts so he could secretly celebrate Mass alone in his cell. Alfred Delp was hanged on February 2nd,1945—the feast of the Presentation which marked the official end of the Christmas season.
In these days of ever-increasing anxiety, tension and fear—especially for the continuously marginalized groups of immigrants, people of color, gay and trans people, people experiencing homelessness and uninsured or underinsured people, victims of violence and victims of hatred—may the Jesuit priest Alfred Delp remind us that the Gospel and Catholic Social Teaching exist beyond politics. They serve as our only true source of peace in the midst of our storms. Amen.
