![]() |
|||||||||||||
Franciscan Friars of the Renewal |
Summer 2007 Published biannually |
||||||||||||
The Lord of the Smile |
|||||||||||||
by Fr. Bernard Marie Murphy, CFR |
|||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||
This past December the friars in New York brought a group of friends and Associates to our mission in Honduras. The occasion was the blessing of our new outreach center for the poor in Comayagua. “Casa Guadalupe,” as it is known, is an evangelization center and outreach facility for the poor in the neighborhood of the friary, San Serafín. The complex will help meet some of the material as well as spiritual needs of our less fortunate brothers and sisters.
First-time visitors to the mission are often overwhelmed by the material poverty that surrounds the friary. Everywhere one looks there are adobe huts with dirt floors, children shabbily clad in secondhand American clothes, and young mothers (and some not so young) washing their clothes on the bank of the river. Open fires burn day and night as the locals attempt to cook a meager meal of rice and tortillas or boil a little water for bathing. On Sundays in Comayagua many of the friars visit local orphanages, one for boys and another for young girls. The facilities, which are immaculately kept, are filled to capacity with children. Young mothers, who find themselves without means to care for their little offspring, entrust them to the care of others. Older children working with younger children under the careful supervision of dedicated laborers are raised in a “family” of hundreds. No one is without, but the supplies are often quite scarce. Some of the Associates visited a few of the many families with whom the friars work. Situated in the mountain aldeas, or small villages, and housed in a structure of leftover wood, families struggle to survive. Everyone must be busy. Everyone must work. Every member of the family has his or her role to play for the survival of all. Some will tend to the coffee-bean grove. Others collect potable water from the distant streams. Some are assigned to care for the few chickens and, if they are lucky, the goat. No one takes care of the innumerable dogs; they seem to take care of themselves. “I can’t believe it. I really can’t believe it!” This constant refrain could be heard from our guests from the States throughout their eight-day excursion to Central America. Whether it was during the long and winding road trip from Tegucigalpa airport, or the mountainous treks to the outer villages; whether it was in the midst of the overactivity of preparing the Casa for its festivities, or the hyperactivity of children at play in the orphanages, the same cry was heard. But this refrain was not for the spectacular beauty of the Honduran countryside, nor was it given for the task of preparing a construction site (Casa Guadalupe) for its Solemn Blessing by the local Ordinary. The expressions of disbelief, moreover, were not even a response to the unspeakable poverty of so many. Rather, the guests were reacting to the overwhelming joy on the faces of so many, especially the young. Everywhere our little entourage moved, hordes of young faces, along with wizened old men and women, smiled from ear to ear. Toothless grins and half hidden childish smirks greeted the American guests at every moment. Despite the overwhelming poverty and almost crushing hardships of life, the people are joyful, really joyful! It is almost unbelievable. And yet the Friars and Sisters of the Renewal experience this joy almost daily among our less fortunate brothers and sisters. This is not to deny the hardships or overlook the suffering, but it is to acknowledge that there is more to life than possessions. I experienced this personally in a most profound way shortly after high school graduation. Instead of going directly to college, I determined to take a year off and give some time in service to the needy of Appalachia. I had been privileged to attend a fine Catholic boarding school. My father, an Irish immigrant who studied hard to become a lawyer, wanted the best possible education for his sons. After graduation I wanted to take some time to serve those who were less privileged.
I traveled to the mountains of Kentucky to work with a Catholic relief organization. I was assigned to build a front porch for an elderly man who lived about eight miles back from a dirt road. When I arrived at the work site, I was astonished to find that my task was a porch. This man needed a house! He had no electricity or running water, and you could look into his home, not through an open door or window, but through large cracks in the siding of what was really a shack. He was in need of much more than I was offering, but he simply wanted a porch. I began my labors and found that the more I did, the more frustrated I got. It wasn’t a question of being dissatisfied with my craftsmanship, but my frustration increased as I saw more and more what needed to be done. What made things worse was that I was miserable in my tasks and the elderly fellow seemed quite happy. In fact he kept smiling at me, which only made my frustration worse. I had everything; he had nothing. I was miserable; he was happy. And to top it off, he smiled and had no teeth! I couldn’t bear his joy and my misery. Finally I boldly asked him, “Why are you so happy?” To this day I will never forget his piercing eyes and his almost immediate response. With a heavy mountain drawl he said, “ ’Cause I know Jesus.” I thought to myself, “I know Jesus.” I had had twelve years of the best Catholic education. I felt I knew Jesus. And so I retorted, “I know Jesus!” This old mountain man, with nothing but a newly refurbished porch and a shadow of a house, looked deep into my eyes and replied, “Naw, you know about Him. You don’t know Him. ’Cause if you really knew Him, you’d be happy too!” I remember going back to the cabin where I was staying that night and thinking about the old man’s words. It was probably the first time in my seventeen years of life that I really prayed. And my prayer was earnest: “Lord, I don’t want to know about you, I want to know you!” It was perhaps the most profound cry a seventeen-year-old kid from Connecticut ever prayed. And I meant it! The Friars and the Sisters of the Renewal are privileged to work with our less fortunate brothers and sisters. We don’t want to patronize their poverty or overlook their distress, but we see so clearly that when you have Jesus, you have everything. Jesus is our all! Unfortunately, things so often get in the way. When the original friars began our little community, they wanted to live an intentionally Franciscan lifestyle. They desired a genuine expression of the vow of poverty that would not be a source of scandal or envy to those we are called to serve. Although provision for our needs is made through the hands of so many generous benefactors, we want to live simply with as little material property as possible. Shortly after the Second Vatican Council, Pope Paul VI wrote an apostolic exhortation to consecrated religious, Evangelica Testificatio (June 1971), in which he stated: Our work in the barrios of Honduras, the rough neighborhoods of New York, the East End of London, or wherever the Lord may take us is certainly intended to facilitate hands-on service to those most in need. We long to alleviate some of the challenges and difficulties associated with poverty. But our decision to live with the poor reminds us that we are all a people dependent on the Lord’s provision. Whether rich or poor, our joy will come because we know Jesus. In Him is our all. In Him is our security in life. In Him is our daily provision. And in Him is our joy! As society experiences unprecedented wealth and craving for security, as so many people are striving for true peace and fulfillment in their lives, we Franciscans of the Renewal long to bear witness to the truth that security and joy are found in Jesus. Although we can still become discouraged and sometimes distracted by our needs, all we need to do is look beyond our front doors and see so many who have so little and yet experience such joy. In serving those less fortunate, we are so often blessed beyond measure as we find the Lord’s gracious provision in the smiling faces of those most in need who know Him. “I can’t believe it. I really can’t believe it!” But it is true. Their smiles radiate the presence of God among His people!
|
|||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||