Aventuras: La Prisión Militar (The Military Prison)

I just spent the day in prison, and it was probably my favorite day in Mexico so far.

I suppose I should explain that statement… After all, I have had many wonderful days in Mexico!

On Thursday, I went with my pastor to a military prison to celebrate Mass, hear confessions, and have a Holy Hour (obviously, I wasn’t the one celebrating Mass or hearing confessions, but I did serve as an acolyte). We went with two other people from our church and a local religious sister who has been involved in prison ministry for many years.

The day started when Father told me, “Don’t wear blue, red, green, or yellow.” All of this actually made sense, since I have worked with troubled youth in the past and I am very well aware of gang violence and related issues. Still, I did not know what to expect, and to be honest, I was a bit apprehensive. I knew, however, that everything we were about to do would be for His glory alone, and so I left it to Him, asking for the intercession of Our Lady of Guadalupe.

When the five of us arrived, there were several rounds of screening. I’m not sure how much detail I should use, so I will stay sufficiently vague I hope. Of course, we had to enter the military base itself, then we proceeded to the prison. Once there, at the first entrance we were checked for any electronics, then at the next gate, the real screening began. I say this because at this particular checkpoint (out of 5 total), we spent about an hour and a half. I quickly found out the reason for our long delay – one of us had one of these:

Us-passport.jpg

Nueve días mas y voy a utilizar esto para mi regresar a Los Estados Unidos…

You can guess who it belonged to…

In any case, after checking to see if it was O.K. for this estadounidense to enter the compound, we were escorted by several M.P.s through the rest of the checkpoints and finally to the prison chapel, where many of the congregation were already waiting for us.

Upon arrival, Father got to work almost immediately, taking a couple of chairs out to a grassy field and began hearing confessions. Meanwhile, I started to help prepare for Mass and the Holy Hour. This experience in itself was very humbling, as the prisoners were asking me if everything was set up correctly. These were men with ranks from Private all the way to Major, who for whatever reason found themselves incarcerated, asking me for advice and direction, this backward hobbit of a seminarian from the Central Valley of California. What’s more, is that they were all so welcoming, prisoners and M.P.s alike. I could tell that many of these men had a deep faith and were truly attempting to seek God’s everlasting mercy.

After confessions were over, we had Benediction to conclude the Holy Hour and then began the Mass. I will always remember the fervor and the strength with which these men sang! I assume some of it has to do with the discipline of the institution and their military training, but to hear their voices ring out in praise to God was truly an edifying experience. I now understand why a soldier’s battle cry can strike fear into the heart of his enemy!

Following the Mass, we had the opportunity to gather and share a meal. So many of the conversations I had enlightened me to life inside the prison, and helped to show me the need for mercy and compassion in today’s world. A side benefit to all these conversations is that today, just nine days before I return to the United States and begin my Pastoral Year, I realized that I have actually learned some Spanish, and it was a joy to be able to connect with so many people on such a profound level (even as they were being very patient with my fledgling speaking skills).

The conditions in this particular prison were very nice, but I am under no illusions that other prisons in Mexico come close to comparing with this institution. I also know that the United States has over two million people under incarceration, almost one percent of the adult population in our country. My time in the federal prison today has helped open my eyes to the need for us to reach out to ALL people – every single person deserves to encounter the merciful touch of the Father through the Son with the Holy Spirit. Sometimes, that encounter may come through one of us, and we have to be ready to respond. No person’s life is worthless, and we cannot let anyone forget this truth, because I think when people do forget it, this is when they begin to slide even deeper into darkness. Let us work to bring the light of Christ to all people, even as we seek to encounter and accept the mercy of God in our own lives.

I have had many valuable and enriching experiences in Mexico – new cultures, new people, new places. There are so many memories that I will cherish for a lifetime, but today, the day I spent in prison, will be the day that makes the largest imprint on my heart, the one exception being my encounter with Our Lady of Guadalupe.

Todo gloria a Dios. Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, ruega por nosotros. San Benito, ruega por nosotros.

Pax.

On the Journey: Prayer, Work, and Cookies

Augustine’s Confessions Book II, Chapters 6-10

“I long instead for innocence and justice, graceful and splendid in eyes whose sight is undefiled. My longing fills me and yet it cannot cloy. With them is certain peace and life that cannot be disturbed. The man who enters their domain goes to share the joy of the Lord. He shall know no fear and shall lack no good. In him that is goodness itself he shall find his own best way of life. But I deserted you, my God. In my youth I wandered away, too far from your sustaining hand, and created of myself a barren waste.” –Confessions II.10

Rocket01

CC BY-SA 3.0 by TimmyTruck via WikiCommons

What is the first time you remember you felt guilt from knowing you did something wrong? If you are anything like me, it was probably pretty early on in life. At my great-grandmother’s house up in the mountains, she used to have this wonderful cookie jar sitting on the counter. She always kept it filled with fresh cookies, and if for some reason it was empty, you could be sure that a fresh batch was soon to be ready, the sweet smell of chocolate chips wafting through the house. After all, what’s Grandma’s house without cookies?!

When I was 5 or 6, I remember thinking that I could get to that cookie jar. I had asked earlier if I could have one, but for some reason (probably due to an upcoming meal), I was told no. So, as many a small child will do, I took matters into my own hands. When no one was in the kitchen, I quickly pulled a chair over to the counter. If you know me, you know how short I am; well, I was short for my age then as well, so you can imagine the sight!

In any case, there I was with the chair at the counter, my objective in view. I climbed up, and reached as far as I could, just barely grasping the jar. I pulled it over, and opened the lid, seeing the forbidden objects of my desire: those precious chocolate chip cookies. I quickly took one out, replaced the lid, climbed down, put the chair back, and took the first bite into that delicious morsel.

It was probably the worst cookie I’ve had in my life.

Don’t get me wrong, the taste was absolutely wonderful! But I knew that I had done something wrong. As I finished the cookie, I realized that I had taken the cookie without asking, betraying my grandmother’s trust. Even though no one ever found out (or at least no one ever told me they found out), I felt absolutely horrible. In the words of Saint Augustine, “it brought me no happiness, for what harvest did I reap from acts that make me now blush?” (II.8)

And so it is with sin in our life. In these last chapters of Book II in Augustine’s Confessions, we find him reflecting on the mistakes of his youth, something which I think is common to almost every person. One of the constants of human existence in our fallen life is that of sin: we fall constantly, “for the soul defiles itself with unchaste love when it turns away from you and looks elsewhere for things which it cannot find pure and unsullied except by returning to you” (II.6). Often in life we seek fulfillment and pleasure in things that are not of God. Pick any of the seven deadly sins, and you find that they are all about replacing God for something of this world. Sometimes, this longing can even twist good things into bad, whether it is a good hobby, work in the Church, or love for another person. When we take our focus from God, everything starts to fall apart.

So what is the answer? To turn back to Him of course! We can do this through the sacraments, most especially through Confession and the Eucharist. We find through the Sacraments that “no caress is sweeter than your charity and no love is more rewarding than the love of your truth, which shines in beauty above all else” (II.6). In His love, beauty, and truth, we find true fulfillment, rather than in those things of the world, no matter how good they may seem. We must realize that everything we do, no matter how mundane, needs to be directed back toward God.

Mt._Angel_Abbey_(Marion_County,_Oregon_scenic_images)_(marDA0213)

Mount Angel Abbey Church, by Gary Halvorson, Oregon State Archives

I find this especially present in the maxim of Saint Benedict, “Ora et Labora,” or Prayer and Work. Everything we do can be turned toward God and sanctified. In the Benedictine sense, this takes the form of the daily prayers as “ora” and each monastery’s particular work, such as teaching in the case of my seminary, as “labora.” But from what I have seen in the various monks I’ve met over the years, it also means making the work itself a prayer. Why not offer up your daily trials and triumphs to the Lord, sanctifying every moment of every day? Of course we must set aside some time specifically dedicated to prayer, but all those other times can be directed to the Lord as well.

As we strive to direct our lives towards God, we begin to realize the limitless grace and mercy that is the Lord’s. Despite our past mistakes and current failings, we see that He is boundless, and so can repeat the words of Saint Augustine, “I avow that you have forgiven me all.” For God’s mercy is infinite; all we need to do is to turn back to Him.

These past few chapters have focused on the adolescence of Saint Augustine and the mistakes he made in his life. Next we head into Book III, where he will take us through his time of learning rhetoric and the beginning of his quest for truth, even if at first he was not looking in the right places…

UPDATE: 31 July 2016, 2215

Having just read Pope Francis’ final homily from World Youth Day, I think these words are especially appropriate:

That is our real “stature”, our spiritual identity: we are God’s beloved children, always. So you can see that not to accept ourselves, to live glumly, to be negative, means not to recognize our deepest identity. It is like walking away when God wants to look at me, trying to spoil his dream for me. God loves us the way we are, and no sin, fault or mistake of ours makes him change his mind. As far as Jesus is concerned – as the Gospel shows – no one is unworthy of, or far from, his thoughts. No one is insignificant. He loves all of us with a special love; for him all of us are important: you are important! God counts on you for what you are, not for what you possess. In his eyes the clothes you wear or the kind of cell phone you use are of absolutely no concern. He doesn’t care whether you are stylish or not; he cares about you!  In his eyes, you are precious, and your value is inestimable.

At times in our lives, we aim lower rather than higher. At those times, it is good to realize that God remains faithful, even obstinate, in his love for us. The fact is, he loves us even more than we love ourselves. He believes in us even more than we believe in ourselves. He is always “cheering us on”; he is our biggest fan. He is there for us, waiting with patience and hope, even when we turn in on ourselves and brood over our troubles and past injuries. But such brooding is unworthy of our spiritual stature! It is a kind of virus infecting and blocking everything; it closes doors and prevents us from getting up and starting over.  God, on the other hand, is hopelessly hopeful!  He believes that we can always get up, and he hates to see us glum and gloomy. Because we are always his beloved sons and daughters. Let us be mindful of this at the dawn of each new day.  It will do us good to pray every morning: “Lord, I thank you for loving me; help me to be in love with my own life!” Not with my faults, that need to be corrected, but with life itself, which is a great gift, for it is a time to love and to be loved.

You can read the rest here.


Up next time: the beginning of Book III

This is part of a continuing series, Companions on the Journey, which travels along with a particular companion in the spiritual life, one of the great saints, in order discover how some of their writings might be applicable to our everyday lives. Currently, we are traveling with Augustine of Hippo through his work, Confessions. You can take a look at previous posts in the series or read the introduction.

 

Second Sunday of Easter: Divine Mercy Sunday (Reflection)

For His mercy endures forever…

Acts 5:10-16, Ps. 118.2-4, 13-15, 22-24

Rev. 1.9-11A, 12-13, 17-19

800px-The_Incredulity_of_Saint_Thomas_by_Caravaggio

The Incredulity of Saint Thomas by Caravaggio [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

What is mercy? Well, let me ask you another question, in hopes that we discover the answer: Are you a “doubting Thomas?” If you are anything like me, there have probably been many times throughout your life where you could answer “yes” to that question. Especially in our world today, we tend to look for hard, physical evidence, looking for the scientific basis of this or that situation. But even more so, I think there is another reason why we can call ourselves, at times, “doubting Thomas.” It’s hard for us to believe that our Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, hung upon the cross for us, and not just us as a collective group, but for you and me individually, as if we were the only persons in existence. Even though it is only a week after we celebrated the Resurrection of our Lord, we might have doubts and questions! But this is why we celebrate Divine Mercy Sunday, to serve as a reminder that all of us have received the free and unmerited gift of His mercy, that His triumph over death is real, if only we are willing to accept it. We see this in our first reading as the “believers in the Lord” were gathering: even though they were sick and maligned, “they were all cured”[1] at the hands of the apostles. Nothing was asked of them but faith in Jesus Christ, and nothing more is asked of us in order to find true healing. All we have to do to accept this gift of mercy is proclaim Jesus as the one who triumphed over death, and to embrace that “[our] strength and [our] courage is the Lord.”[2]

So let’s return to the image of the doubting Thomas: where can we find mercy? A doubting Thomas looks for the proof, and finds it difficult to accept in faith, something that many of us may be able to readily identify with! The beautiful reality, brothers and sisters, is that He brings the proof to us; He meets us right where we are at, with all of our sins and failings, inviting us to something more, something beautiful and glorious. This is mercy! When Thomas expresses his doubt, the Lord, in His mercy, approaches him and invites Thomas, invites him!, to bring his hand and place it into the Lord’s side. Only then, when Thomas is able to physically touch the Lord, does He exclaim, “My Lord and my God!”[3] The Lord knew Thomas, and knows us, and just as he knew that Thomas needed that moment of physical touch, so too does He know exactly what we need in order to experience and accepts His grace and mercy. Mercy is the Lord reaching out to us.

Divine Mercy

Pope Francis describes mercy as, “the bridge that connects God and man, opening our hearts to the hope of being loved forever despite our sinfulness.”[4] But we do not build this bridge; it is Christ’s mercy, Christ’s bridge, that brings us closer to Him. Just as the Lord knew what bridge had to be built for Thomas, namely showing him and allowing him to feel the wounds in His side, He knows as well just what form the bridge needs to take for us, but we have to be willing to cross it to accept His mercy.

But where is our bridge? Of course, each one of us experiences Christ’s everlasting mercy and love in a unique manner, but it all flows from one place: from the sacraments, from confession, and most especially, the Word made flesh on the Eucharistic table. It is here that He calls to us and tells us, “do not be afraid.”[5] In His mercy, He provides the bridge, beckoning us to open our hearts to being led across, telling us, “do not be unbelieving but believe.”[6] The gift is there waiting for us; we just have to accept it. When we do cross this bridge, we die to sin, and are born to new life.[7]

So brothers and sisters, the Lord invites you and me, as He invited Thomas, to a deep and personal encounter with Him. This encounter, which takes place especially in the Eucharist and Confession, is one where we will discover the mercy of Christ, “by whose Spirit [we] have been reborn and by whose blood [we] have been redeemed.”[8] Let us “receive the Holy Spirit”, inviting mercy into our lives. As we profess our faith, let us keep the Easter acclamation, “Alleluia!” in our hearts, minds, and actions, proclaiming to the world that His mercy endures forever, and His love is indeed everlasting.[9]


 

  1. [1] Acts 5.16
  2. [2] Psalm 118.15
  3. [3] John 20.26
  4. [4] Pope Francis, Misericordae Vultus
  5. [5] Rev. 1.17
  6. [6] John 20.27
  7. [7] CCC 1988
  8. [8] Collect for 2nd Sunday of Easter, Yr. C
  9. [9] Ps. 118 and Response