Practical Solidarity

Today, class, I would like to write about the social justice theme of “solidarity.”  But, before I begin, I would like you to do something for me.  Close your eyes for a few seconds and visualize your concept of “solidarity” as if you are an American visiting another country.

Before I visit another country, such as my upcoming trip to Haiti, I like to reflect on the Catholic Church’s teachings on social justice.  I think it is important to be reminded of these teachings  and prepare oneself for new experiences and new challenges of understanding when away from one’s home.

One of the principle themes of those teachings is the concept of solidarity.  The USCCB website has a page that gives scriptural references for this teaching, as well as excerpts from various papal encyclicals and other documents.  Here is a basic statement of what solidarity means from that page  (link here).

[Solidarity] is not a feeling of vague compassion or shallow distress at the misfortunes of so many people, both near and far. On the contrary, it is a firm and persevering determination to commit oneself to the common good; that is to say, to the good of all and of each individual, because we are all really responsible for all.
On Social Concern (Sollicitudo rei Socialis), #38

This definition and the others you might find in Catholic writings give you a sense of what solidarity means but not a very good practical perspective from which to work from.

So, here is my attempt at providing some practical advice for anyone, Americans in particular, who are trying to be “in solidarity” with others in another country.

The photo attached to this entry is the best that I could find to illustrate how I view solidarity.

If you “google” for images representing solidarity, you will most likely find photos of people holding hands in one form or another.  That only goes so far in my definition because it only represents a joining together for a common purpose.  Those photos most often imply an equality between the people represented by the hands.

Something like this.

In this photo, everyone is equal and assumably working toward a common goal.  That sort of equality is certainly something to be strived for, but a practical perspective would be different.

In the first photo, a group of people have brought what they have to the problem and are helping another overcome an obstacle.  The boy climbing the wall was given the boost he needed and is solving the problem on his own as best as he can given his own talents, knowledge and gifts.

OK, you’re probably saying to yourself that this is as naive a definition as any, but let me back this up a bit from my own experiences.

Early in my career as a campus minister, I traveled to a small mountain town in northern Nicaragua to visit one of our graduates.  He and another young man were working as Jesuit Volunteers in a local Catholic school.  Two other Americans were in the town, doing social service work for the Peace Corps.  The difference in approach between these two groups couldn’t have been much greater.

The two Peace Corps volunteers had gone “native,” so to speak.  To be in solidarity with the locals, they had adopted their clothing, walked barefoot, lived in a hut, and ate the local food.  They gave up  a normal sense of hygiene and stopped shaving or cutting their hair.  They were trying to “be” one of the locals, taking it to an idealized extreme.

Behind their backs, the locals were laughing at them because they didn’t want the Peace Corps volunteers to be like them.  They were trying to be more like Americans, seeking out a more prosperous lifestyle of fancy clothes, electronics, and sleek hairstyles.

My two JV friends had a more practical approach, and this is what I try to remind myself when I travel.

  • As an American, I can never be one of the locals.
  • My culture and upbringing is based on a sense of opportunity that has been inculcated into how I see the world.  Many people in other countries have never had that.  Their sense of what is possible is much more limited.
  • I see the world with a sense of optimism that things can change.  The feeling of desperation that burdens so many cultures is missing in my world.
  • I can never set aside how I view the world as an American and see it as others do.  It is impossible.
  • I have to realize that the way I solve problems will be different because of my culture and personal experiences.  I cannot force my preferred solution to a problem without the risk of trodding on their culture and unique understanding.

Here’s an example that I used to tell the students when we were preparing to visit Guatemala.  On my first trip to the Lake Atitlan region, we passed a group of 10 or so men cutting the grass alongside the highway.  The men were using machetes to cut the grass, a few blades at a time with each swipe of the blade.  I asked our guide why they just didn’t use a tractor or some sort of mower and finish the job quickly.

His answer, simple as it was, put this whole question into perspective for me.

“It allows us to employ ten men for a whole day, rather than one man for a few hours.”

American efficiency says that the job should be done quickly.  Guatemalan efficiency says that the job should be done so that the most people can earn a wage.  The cost in terms of money would probably be about the same but the preferred outcomes are different.

I’ve always remembered that and I try to take that into account when suggesting a solution to a problem when visiting another country.  Their culture, their goals, their solutions may be very different from mine, but as equally valid.  Perhaps more valid, than mine.

So, my definition of being in “solidarity” means:

  • I have to be who I am.
  • I have to let others be who they are.
  • I have to respect what makes us different (cultures, perspectives, dreams, aspirations, etc.)
  • I should offer what I have to offer freely.
  • I should accept what others have to offer freely.
  • We all should work together to solve problems, seeking solutions with an understanding of our differences, needs and goals.

So you see?  Solidarity is really another way of defining another one of the Church’s social justice themes, that of human dignity and the fact that we are all made in the image and likeness of God and should treat each other that way.

Aren’t we a smart Church?

Haitians prepare for polls

Here’s a sobering article about the upcoming elections in Haiti.

http://www.iol.co.za/news/world/haitians-prepare-for-polls-1.681956

My upcoming trip to Haiti will occur before these elections.  I have to admit that it has me a bit worried to be traveling there during the run up to that vote.  Given the heartbreaking conditions of so many people, I would be surprised if the elections don’t become a focal point of the people’s frustrations and despair.  How could it not?  If you are an avid follower of world news, you may remember the political violence that has erupted in Haiti in the past.

I’ve been in Guatemala and Nicaragua during similar times in those countries, and as an American, I was very much the conspicuous outsider.  I soon learned why the State Department warns Americans to stay away from any political demonstrations or unknown crowds of people.  Political violence can erupt quickly and frequently in other countries and as a foreigner it is difficult to see it coming or to understand it.

Political parties in many countries also seem to encourage a greater degree of passion, and perhaps, a greater sense of identity than they do in the United States.  Eight or nine years ago, I was traveling in Nicaragua just after the nationwide mayoral elections.  At that time, most of the cities and towns elected mayors from one of the liberal parties and not  candidates from the infamous Sandinista party.

Let’s just say, that the Sandinistas were not happy about it.  One day, I happened to be riding in a small pickup from a small mountain town, called Cusmapa, to the capital in Managua, with the newly re-elected mayor of Cusmpa.  A member of the liberal party, the mayor became a bit worried while passing through a known Sandinista town.  Members of the party with their trademark red and black flags were protesting the election results by barricading the main highway and tying up traffic in both directions.

Mr. Mayor, with his gringo cargo in tow, and pistol in lap, carefully threaded the barricade as inconspicuously as possible.  While nothing happened, it is still a vivid reminder of how different the world can be and how insulated I was as a naive American.  It is one of the few times during my travels abroad when I felt particularly scared because I didn’t truly understand the situation I found myself in.

So, during my trip to Haiti, I will keep my eyes open and rely on the knowledge and advice of our hosts to avoid finding myself in any similar sort of situation.

Prayers for the people of Haiti and for the new government that they are electing.  With God’s grace, I hope they can continue rebuilding their country and end the corruption that has plagued them for so long.

Registration by Cell Phone

My friend Lisa Hendey pointed out this article on the Aggie Catholic website.  I thought it was a neat way of using new technologies for the age-old problem of getting people to register for their parish/campus ministry.

The article states well how hard it is to get college students to take the time to fill out a registration card.  Using the context of Mass, when the students are all gathered together, is an idea that most campus ministries already use.  The idea of doing it by cell phone while they are sitting in the pews is new and innovative.

I know that some people will complain about doing something like this during Mass, with good reason.  However, in my opinion, the benefit of actually knowing who your community is and how they can best be served by your ministry, outweighs this one time disruption.

Let’s be honest, is this really worse than having DDF or mission appeals during homilies?  I don’t think so.

http://marysaggies.blogspot.com/2010/09/why-we-asked-our-parishioners-to-bring.html

"Rather Beg Than Steal"

Everyone involved in ministry eventually encounters a panhandler.  As a campus minister, I dealt with a few every semester, usually during the colder weather.  I had different ways of dealing with them, depending on the situation. As a student center, and not a parish, we didn’t have any resources at hand to help the general public in need, so I would either try to send them along to a nearby parish, let them know how to contact a social services agency, or give them a few bucks out of my own pocket.

Catholic social justice teaching encourages us to have a special “option for the poor,” a calling to do more for those in most need, to lift them up out of poverty which cuts them off from so much more than just monetary considerations.  The problem is compounded by not knowing just how to help a particular person and not knowing the truth and legitimacy of the need.

If you drive around most cities, you will often see a “panhandler” standing at an intersection, holding a sign of some sort, hoping for donations from a passerby.  These fleeting encounters tug at our heartstrings and force us to make a quick decision in the time before the traffic light changes.

Perhaps I’ve become a little callous because of the encounters I’ve had before, but I have to be honest and say that I don’t trust these drive-by panhandlers.  I don’t feel compelled to help them in this way.  Instead, I try to find other ways to help the poor in my community.

Just a few minutes ago, I passed a man at a particularly busy intersection.  He was holding a crumpled rumpled cardboard sign with the message “Rather Beg Than Steal” scrawled upon it.  I’ve seen this particular phrase before, but today I caught my attention and made me pensive about its meaning.

Is this a statement of personal conviction?  Is this a warning, meant to guilt us into helping out as a way of preventing a crime?

I would prefer to see it as a plea for understanding, a plea of distress, a last resort before surrendering dignity and morality in the face of truly dire straits.  Does this make me want to give to this man more than before?

When my youngest nephew was confirmed, Bishop Curlin, now Bishop Emeritus of the Diocese of Charlotte, told us a story of traveling in India with Mother Teresa.  While walking the streets of Calcutta, Mother Teresa stopped to minister to a dying man on the streets.  Later, Bishop Curlin asked her how she always found the strength to reach out to others.  Paraphrasing from my poor memory, she said that “the Christ in her speaks to the Christ in others.”

Being made in the image and likeness of God, we know that Christ is in each human being, even if he doesn’t recognize it or accept it.  Basic human dignity compels us to help.  Upon reflection, I do feel a bit of guilt for not giving money to the man soliciting on the corner.

I know that 9 out of 10 such donations are probably not going to people who truly need the help.  This money is probably going to feed an addiction or for other spurious purposes. But perhaps that 1 out of 10 is enough.

“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit upon his glorious throne,

and all the nations will be assembled before him. And he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats.

He will place the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.

Then the king will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.

For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me,

naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.’

Then the righteous will answer him and say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink?

When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you?

When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?’

And the king will say to them in reply, ‘Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.’

(Matthew 25:31-40)

Open Road

"No Man's Land" - Oklahoma Panhandle

I love traveling.  In particular, I love driving.  I especially love driving the open roads of the Llano Estacado and the high mountain deserts of West Texas, New Mexico and Arizona.  This is where I grew up.  If you’ve never driven those wide empty plains and experienced the sense of freedom that comes with it, it is hard to explain the attraction.

The photo above is from my most recent trip westward, through the Panhandle of Oklahoma and into the northeastern corner of New Mexico.  The empty highway, void of heavy traffic, induce a meditative state, yet still alert, that allows my mental processes the freedom to explore all sorts of new possibilities, new explanations, as well as those unspoken fears and questions found deep down inside.

I imagine this is what contemplative prayer is like.  I’ve never quite been able to accomplish this same level of mental freedom or release in prayer.  It is elusive and frustrating.  Usually, my thoughts are disordered, somewhat frantic in nature and undisciplined when I’m trying to be meditative or contemplative.  I’ve been told that I can learn to do this better with practice.  The open road, perhaps paired with the mental act of driving, is a better environment for me.

I have loved the open road ever since I learned to drive the summer after my 16th birthday.  I have undoubtedly driven hundreds of thousands of miles, yet my thoughts often go back to my first experiences of driving on the Llano Estacado in and around Hobbs, New Mexico.  The long straight roads, with the warm air blowing through the open windows, have ever since been my favorite kind of solitude.  I must do it more often.

My aunt says that we have “gypsy blood” because everyone in my family is much like me.  At any given moment, at least one of us is traveling somewhere.  Perhaps you, dear reader, are like me, itching to go at a moments notice, to be somewhere other than “here.”

Although at times it can seem like a curse, when responsibilities and the needs of others take precedence, there is always a sense of excitement and anticipation when the next journey approaches.  The next several months are offering several opportunities.  Some familiar places to visit and some new ones.

I can hardly wait!

Remembering Hershey

Hershey

I am sad today.

I just spoke with my brother and learned that their 13-yr old border collie passed away in the night.  Her name was Hershey and she was an awesome dog.  Sweet, loyal and brilliantly intelligent as only border collies can be.

I know it’s not unusual to say this, but my family has always had a strong attachment to its dogs and Hershey was a particular favorite among all of us.  It was heart wrenching to listen to my brother express his grief for an animal that was definitely an integral part of their family.  My brother’s kids, two sons and a daughter, have not heard this news as I write this.   It will be terrible for them too.

St. Thomas Aquinas, I believe, said that all living things have a soul, but only humans have eternal souls.  It comes from our unique relationship with God and that we were made in His image.   That is an awesome gift that we all fail to fully appreciate.

Perhaps there is still a special place in heaven for those animals that touch our lives.  It is obvious that they have touched our souls at least as much as we have touched theirs.

Bye-bye Hershey.

Bún chả giò & fortune cookies

I had lunch today at my favorite Vietnamese restaurant, and I had my favorite dish, called Bún chả giò.   Don’t ask me how to pronounce it.  I’ve never gotten it right and now I’m rather embarrassed to try, so I just point at it in the menu and mumble something that sounds something like “boon chow gow.”  The server never laughs outright, so I tip really big.

Bún chả giò

This picture looks something like what I had.  What I find most interesting about the dish is the wonderful mix of textures.  It is layered with a bit of fresh salad, noodles, strips of Vietnamese style beef, and sliced egg rolls, and a bit of a sweet sauce.   I love it!

I always feel a little proud when I take someone new to this restaurant.  My parents, particularly my mom, was very good at getting us to try new restaurants and new foods whenever we were out and about.  I think this must be a bit uncommon because the usual reaction I get from my friends when I suggest going there is an immediate dubious look and the immediate search for excuses or an alternative restaurant suggestion.

Most of the time, though, when my dining companions are brave enough to try the place, they rave about the cuisine and I feel a small sense of accomplishment in introducing them to something new.

This particular place also ends the meal with the traditional Chinese fortune cookie.  I’m pretty sure they don’t have these in Vietnam, and they probably don’t have them in China either.   I’m guessing it’s just a bit of Americanization that customers have come to expect.

You have probably noticed too, that the “fortunes” in the cookies have stopped, for the most part, being fortunes but are more like proverbs.   Today’s little tidbit was something special though.  An affirmation!  It read “Other enjoy your radiance.”

My immediate reaction upon reading the little slip of paper was to joke about it.  It told my aunt, who was with me, that it was like getting a “get out of jail free” card in the game of Monopoly.  The next time someone accuses me of being cranky, I can just whip out this little slip of paper and say, “Oh yeah?  Look here, others enjoy my radiance and here’s proof!”

Upon reflection, I’ve decided that this is really a great compliment to give someone.  We, as flawed and fallible humans, can exude so much about ourselves.  Wouldn’t it be nice if that was really something radiant?  Perhaps that pentecostal grace of the Holy Spirit, really imbibing us with joy and determination, can really be seen by others in how we conduct our lives.

I’m going to keep this little slip of paper in my wallet and the next time I see that radiance in someone, I’ll try to slip it to them in a way that doesn’t tarnish them.

Cathartic Cleaning

“I am not a hoarder!” he says, trying to be convincing.    Today is a big day for me.  I finally got rid of my old, still functioning, TRS-80 Model III computer.  I still remember the day in 1981 when I plunked down $999 at the Radio Shack store in Hobbs, New Mexico.  The beginning of almost 30 years of computing which has taken me around the world and back home again.

My friend Mark first showed me what a TRS-80 could do when we were freshman in the dorms at Oklahoma State. I’ve been hooked ever since.  Through the days of green screen monitors, 300 baud modems, dot matrix printers, arthritis causing keyboards, buggy software, computer viruses, Compuserve, AOL, MS-DOS, …    (For the record, I’m a Mac guy now, so most of those problems have gone away.  Ha!)

That Model III was a great machine for its time.  I even managed to write my master’s degree thesis on it.  Mind you, this was long before MS Office existed, but it still passed the scrutiny of the “ruler lady” in the Graduate College office who judged the formatting of my finished thesis.

So why am I now parting with this piece of Esteban-lore?  Because it is Lent.

Usually, during Lent, I try to do something penitential, such as giving up meat or caffeine, as a small reminder of Christ’s passion.  This year, I decided that I wanted to do something different.  Something more liberating, more freeing.

I am reminded of the man in the Gospel of Mark who asks Jesus about how to inherit eternal life. The Lord tells him to sell his possessions, give to the poor, and follow Him.  The man went away sad because he had many possessions.

I’m really not a hoarder, but I tend to hang on to things much longer than I need to.  I have been “planning” a garage sale for about 10 years but never got around to it.  I have the habit of keeping things for that “someday when I might need it.”

So, for this Lent, enough is enough.  I’m parting with many of the things that I’ve been carrying around like extra baggage.  Parting with my trusty old Model III, by donating it to Goodwill for recycling, was a first step that will make further donations easier.  It was a bit of personal history that was really meaningless in the big scheme of things.

It’s been rather cathartic, a cleansing of my physical estate, a prelude to the cleansing of my spiritual estate that will come during the remainder of Lent and the confession and solemnity of Holy Week, yet to come.

Join me!

"I'm aware of my tongue!!"

Peanuts

(Peanuts free online comic strip library at comics.com)

Peanuts has always been one of my favorite comic strips.  I don’t remember when I first saw this particular strip (first published in 1963), but just like Linus’ tongue, this one has stuck with me for many years.

I think I’m a little bit OCD and trying to tell me not to think of something is only going to make me think of it more.

My friend BK and I used to play the pink elephant game.  He would always get mad at me whenever I would come up to him and say “Pink elephant!!” because you cannot hear the words without actually thinking of a pink elephant.  OK, it’s a rather stupid game, but I’m sure you thought of one just now.

Go ahead, admit it!

Just don’t leave this post thinking of your tongue.  It will dwive you cwazy.

VENI, Creator Spiritus

Last night I was reminded why I love working with college students so much.  I attended part of the TEC (Together Encounter Christ) retreat being offered by my diocese this weekend.  After participating in some of the festivities offered for the greater TEC community, I attended a reflection given by one of the student leaders.  I am so thankful for every moment I get to spend with these kids.

This particular reflection was given by a young woman gave a deeply personal and honest reflection on her struggles with weight and self-esteem, diagnoses of depression and eating disorders, abuse of medications and harmful behaviors.  She also spoke eloquently and with humor about her struggles to know and understand her relationship with God.

And she spoke about peace.

Peace in the acceptance of things she can’t change (echoes of the Desiderata), peace in the knowing that life is a journey of hardships, of learning and re-learning, and peace in the support of friends and family.

There is such wisdom in such a young person who is facing her battles and seeing the face of God in those around her and accepting what they can give in the knowing.  An understanding of the Christian journey and the hand of the Holy Spirit as companion.

VENI, Creator Spiritus,
mentes tuorum visita,
imple superna gratia
quae tu creasti pectora.

COME, Holy Spirit, Creator blest,
and in our souls take up Thy rest;
come with Thy grace and heavenly aid
to fill the hearts which Thou hast made.