3/22/15

I had a meeting with Barbara yesterday at 2pm. I met her in her office and we ended up talking for about two and half hours. She wanted to talk to me one-on-one to make sure I wasn't feeling pressured to join the Church, to see if I had any questions, and to get a sense of where I'm at in my spiritual journey. We talked about a lot of things, from my time at Our Lady of Guadalupe to my experiences at St. Philip and my relationship with God.

I was honest about everything, and even though I'm still not sure about a lot of things, I think she saw that I was sincere and really entering into this because of a deep calling. Not deep as in fathomless and overpowering, mind you, but deep as in always subtly there, guiding me even when I'm unaware of its presence. I told her that I liked St. Philip and felt at home here, like I'd found the right people/place at the right time. We also talked a lot about the Church and its politics and different methods of prayer and devotion. She even asked her husband James to come in and show me the scapular (a double-sided, devotional necklace originally inspired by monastic habits) that he wears.

One of the things that I thought was interesting was that both her and James mentioned Fiddler on the Roof, which makes me want to watch it soon. One of the reasons I really like Barbara, besides the fact that she's smart, has a great sense of humour, and a warm personality, is that she reminds me a lot of my grandmother. And one of my grandmother's favourite movies was Fiddler on the Roof. I remember looking at the video tape countless times, but I don't remember ever watching it. I think I'll have to do that one day next week.

Today was the last of the three scrutinies. It was the same as the previous two, with all of us being called up to the altar, blessed with prayer, and exorcised of intentions contrary to God/Dhamma. Before that, Fr. Michael gave a nice homily about the arc of time, our evolving relationship with God, and the importance of having our actions reflect the teaching in the Gospels, witnessing through actions and not just words. After mass, they had a screening of Romero, a film about Oscar Romero, a bishop who was assassinated in El Salvador for speaking out against the economic inequality and political violence suffered by the El Salvadorian people.

It's an inspiring story. Romero was a rather bookish conservative priest, and many of the more leftist priests and revolutionaries in El Salvador disliked him for it. But after seeing the violence and oppression first hand, his conscience wouldn't let him ignore it, and he began to speak out, in his homilies and weekly radio broadcasts, where he'd read off the names of those who were tortured, murdered, and disappeared by the military government, as well as revolutionary groups. His focus wasn't sectarian; his focus was all the victims of violence and injustice.

The film reminded me of how my own spirituality has influenced my interest in politics and leaning towards social justice issues; and it reminded me of the things I've always admired about the Church and all people who truly live their faith. It's easy to be cynical when it comes to religion, seeing the violence, inequality, and repression in the world, as well as the corruption and hypocrisy in religious institutions, and thinking it's all just a lot of hot air. But every once in a while, a Romero appears to help inspire and motivate us. His words were the words of truth. His actions were those of love. And his life was one that mirrored the words of Jesus read during today's mass:

The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Amen, amen, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will preserve it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there also will my servant be. The Father will honor whoever serves me. (John 12:23-26)

Or in Romero's own words, spoken during his last homily just before he was assassinated on March 24, 1980:

Many do not understand; they think Christianity should not be involved in such things. But, to the contrary, you have just heard in Christ’s gospel that one must not love oneself so much as to avoid getting involved in the risks of life that history demands of us, and that those who try to fend off the danger will lose their lives, while those who out of love for Christ give themselves to the service of others, will live, live like the grain of wheat that dies, but only apparently. If it did not die, it would remain alone. The harvest comes about only because it dies, allowing itself to be sacrificed in the earth and destroyed. Only by undoing itself does it produce the harvest.

There are Romeros in every faith, and even among people with no outwardly religious faith at all, because God's laws are written upon our hearts. One doesn't need to be religious to love or to serve others. One doesn't need to be religious to cultivate skillful intentions and act for the common good rather than for themselves. The purpose of religion is to help us do that, to remind us to look within and not forget what God has written onto our hearts, to give us role models like Romero, MLK Jr., Malcolm X, etc.

I have to admit, though, that watching that film made me feel a little ashamed at my own lack of conviction and faith. I have a hard enough time parting with clothes I hardly wear and books I never read, let alone my life. I hope that one day, I'll have the same amount of conviction in love and compassion as people like Romero, people who are willing to speak the truth and fight for peace and justice, even at the cost of their own lives. It takes a level of bravery and faith that I don't think I have but that I aspire to.