Category: WM Special

In the past two decades, both the late Pope John Paul II and Pope Benedict XVI have addressed the ecological issue on a number of occasions. The most notable documents are: Peace with God the Creator: Peace with All Creation (January 1, 1990), Chapter 10 of the Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church (2004), Caritas in Veritate (July 2009), If You Want to Cultivate Peace, Protect Creation (January 1, 2010) and The Address of His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI to the Members of the Diplomatic Corps (January 11, 2010). I find the claim, that these are very competent and insightful documents from an ecological perspective, difficult to support, for a number of reasons.  Firstly, none of the above documents gives any overall sense of the magnitude of the current ecological crises facing the planet, humankind and every other creature. The only document that has any sense of the overwhelming nature of the problem was an address by Pope John Paul on January 17, 2001, in which he called for an “ecological conversion” for everyone. In that address, he used the word catastrophe, and that humanity needed to stop before the abyss. This document is not found in the Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church, nor have I seen it quoted in official documents since. It seems to me that, if an individual or institution does not have an accurate appraisal of the true magnitude of the ecological challenges facing the earth, one cannot claim that that individual or institution understands the current ecological crisis. Furthermore, unless one understands the magnitude of a problem, one cannot design an appropriate response. So, despite an increased sprinkling of ecological language and concerns in addresses and documents from the Holy See, these still lack an accurate analysis of the problem. One can make all kinds of excuses, for example, that the immediate problems facing the human community are so immediate and pressing that there is little energy left to look beyond to what is happening to the wider earth community, even though this will have dire consequences for every creature, including humankind.  Take the two most serious ecological issues facing the planet – climate change and the destruction of global biodiversity, or, in theological language, the irreversible destruction of God’s creation – both of these concerns only merit one paragraph each in the Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church. Given the enormous pain, death and destruction that each of these human-created global phenomena are, and the devastation they will continue to wreak on the planet, every living creature and humankind, a single paragraph from the leadership of Catholic Church is, in my opinion, incompetent and not very responsible.    Urgency of dealing with the crisis The second element which ought to inform any ecological analysis is clarity about the urgency of tackling the issue. Is it something that must be addressed on a massive scale immediately, or is it something that can be postponed until other issues, such

Unlike Western societies which fear enormously death and the dead, we, the descendants of the inhabitants of Mesoamerica/Middle America – we consider ourselves “sons and daughters of the Corn” – look at relatives, who were physically taken away from us, as being spiritually still among us. And we do it with great reverence because they are the most remote part of our extended family and we are the seed that perpetuates their lives. Therefore, on All Souls’ Day, we wait eagerly on “nuestros muertitos” (our beloved departed): we prepare some delicacies for them, we sing to them and feast for them because they are our root and the guarantee of our heritage as peoples with a specific history and identity. It can be said that we joyfully share our life with our dead people, or rather, they live in us because they gave their lives for us. The daily experience of the peoples of Mesoamerica is that life exists because there is death. Being sown on the fields, the corn dies like all the other seeds to give birth to a new generation of plants. In our myths, the present day human beings are made from the bones of our forefathers and, in turn, we will sow our lives for the future generations. Time exists because the sun, God’s major symbol, sets every evening so that a new sun may rise on the next day, and in this way, we have the weeks, months, years, centuries and millennia. Thus, death is a part of the human existence and of the cosmos; and we must not be afraid of it. It will come at the fixed moment to crown our life’s journey. Our indigenous forefathers of Mesoamerica were very conscious of the vulnerability of our human existence, because they knew very well how brief the earthly life bestowed on us was. We are like flowers which embellish the fields a few days and then wither the next. The important thing, however, is that they have fulfilled the reason of their existence. The same happens to us. Rather than the number of years we live, it is how we live our years that matters – being able to transcend time to fully join the great Giver of Life, Ipalnemohuani. That’s why ancient people believed that “we were born only to wait for the moment of our death,” because by dying, we complete the cycle of our existence and we enter life in its plenitude. That is the sense of the term “petatearse” which, at present, only means to die but earlier it referred to the ritual of wrapping the dead person in a mat and then cremating him/her so that he/she could depart with the Sun, the perennial fire of life. The current devotion to the souls in purgatory, with the images of souls in flames, reminds the simple people more of that ritual of the petatearse than the purification needed to enter heaven. It can be said that as the descendants

Since Africa is the continent of my ministry, I cannot but open this theological reflection by mentioning the prophetic dream of the Afro-American Martin Luther King in the sixties of the last century. The United States was still marred by racial segregation and apartheid with high tension and violence. Though the background was bleak, yet his eyes and heart envisaged, on the hills of Alabama, in the profound South of the country highly hostile to harmonious integration of races, a paradisiacal vision: black and white children playing together in a not far distant future. Desmond Tutu, in 1976, in one of the darkest period of Apartheid in South Africa, the days of the Soweto massacre, didn’t yield to desperation and revenge but reinterpreted and shared the dream of a rainbow society with the thousands and thousands of South Africans assembled for the funeral of the victims. Rainbow is the symbol of the Kingdom of God whose fascination and beauty might warm up our minds and hearts in our theological reflection on diversity and unity.  Dashing experience of otherness: Independence (diversity) and Interdependence (unity). The order of the words should not be overlooked. First, diversity and then unity; not the other way round. Moreover, unity could be better replaced by the biblical koinonia and the more poetic harmony. In the world, in the cosmos, in creation what actually exists is an innumerable diversity of numberless ever-changing beings and creatures. An astounding pluralism which sets a never-ending challenge to unity/koinonia/harmony, in other words, to positive and welcomed interrelationship, to be endlessly and creatively regenerated and reinvented.  Since the Second World War, over the last sixty years or so, our human experience has been awakened to the astonishing diversity on the planet Earth and in an ever-expanding and almost boundless universe. Pope John XXIII in the epoch-making social encyclical letter, Pacem in Terris, in 1963, enriched the theological jargon with the expression sign of the times. That is a social and cultural event loaded with the values of the Kingdom of God, a sign whereby God provides a rather confused humanity and searching Church (it was the times of Vatican II) with signposts to mark the road towards a positive and life-abundant future.  The first of these signs, marked by John XXIII, was the end of colonialism with the independence and rise of many states in the South of the World especially Asia and Africa. It was not only a social event by the foundation of new states, but the recognition of the validity of their unique identity, promising subjectivity and potentials on the world stage. Independence and subjectivity were signs of the times loaded with important message for the Church and the mission. No wonder, therefore, if against this background, the Church rediscovered and regenerated the theology of adaptation, of accommodation, of contextualization, of indigenization, in other words, of inculturation of the faith. The possibility of pluralism within the One Church of Christ is the visible expression of the even greater diversity

There’s nothing more depressing for a missionary who lives and works at the extreme periphery of the Church than reading articles and books on the Church’s mission. Experts and theologians tell us how we should be, and what actions we should take to address the new and major challenges of missionary life. Then, in fact, missionaries remain basically isolated.  Over time, every missionary learns to discern the things he can do, those in which he has some talent, and then, with God’s help, he tries to do something at the service of the Gospel. The failures are inevitably more numerous than the successes. Then, of course, you are told you have acted in isolation. You start doubting whether you have done everything wrong, or whether you have betrayed your vocation and the charism of your institution. Or whether you are only a missionary because of the label that has been sewn onto you.  Some years ago, I enrolled to attend a spiritual retreat led by a great theologian and writer on missionary themes. I had read his texts and found them inspiring. The topic under discussion, “Challenges for the Mission Today,” was of great interest to me. The course was to be held in Malawi, an African country normally considered a tourist paradise. But it was not held because the famous theologian cancelled it at the last minute, apparently because he was told that, in Malawi, he would be at risk of contracting malaria.  I decided to use that week to make another trip to the Nuba Mountains, region of Sudan, where there were Christians for whom it was a luxury to celebrate the Eucharist and the Sacrament of Reconciliation. It was something they could only afford to celebrate once every two or three years. The experience immuned me to fine words, spoken or written. I learned to believe more in the wisdom of simple people – and to the stimuli and calls we receive from them – rather than in the wisdom of the learned intellectuals.   The future is passing by Of course, I did not stop thinking about what I did and still do. I continued reading all the materials that are written on the topic of mission life, at least in the texts that I can find. The duty to keep alive, alert and vigilant, as Jesus tells us in the Gospel, is valid not just for the sake of waiting the return of the Lord, but also because it is an integral part of the life of the missionaries – in order to deepen their knowledge of the society and culture of the people among whom they live. After this long introduction, one written by a missionary of the streets – or as they say in Nairobi, a “jua kali” missionary (Swahili for “one who operates under the hot sun”) – it is clear that the following list is the result of a highly personal vision. I do not want to use words like “pneumatology,”

A theological dissertation was defended at Manila’s De la Salle University in April 2010. It is entitled “Understanding Ancestor Reverence in the Benguet Kankanaey Indigenous Tradition: Towards a Dialogue with the Christian Tradition.” The author, Leonila L. Taray, also a member of the Kankanaeys of the Cordilleras, writes that the centuries-old indigenous peoples’ (IPs) traditional practices are still quite alive today. Although the findings of the study refer to Kankanaey society, we may also apply them to other IPs and to lowland Christian Filipinos. Taray writes that, even after death, the departed “remain as members of the family and the clan,” that “they have the power to grant blessings, shower prosperity, long life, and healthy life for their descendants on earth. It is also within their power to cause illness and misfortunes to the living.” Their mode of action is rooted in clan lineage, consanguinity and affinity.  The Kankanaeys also believe that the spirits of those who recently died are perceived to linger on earth for some time. That is why the living invite the departed to join in the rituals, to partake in eating and drinking in ordinary gatherings. This belief is shown when the living put in a few drops of liquor before drinking. In Metro Manila, where the men informally gather in side alleys over drinks and finger food, a common practice in the gathering is to empty a few drops in the glass and pour the contents into the ground. We have heard of an incident where some professionals with PhDs, during a tennis break, poured out a drink to the spirits.    The seen and the unseen The Kankanaeys behave and act in the conviction that daily life is linked with the social economic, and the religious. Because the departed and the living are integrated as one, religion permeates all aspects of life. Taray writes: “Those who lived in the past continue to relate with and affect the lives of those in the present; those in the sky world continue to join and bless those on earth during the performance of rituals or ceremonies and those in the underworld are enjoined likewise. Thus, the Benguet Kankanaeys perceive the world as an integrated world of the living and the dead. Humanity does not stand apart from nature.” While Greek-inspired Western theology speaks of the natural and the supernatural, the Kankanaeys and Filipino popular religiosity prefer to speak of the seen and the unseen. This way of thinking is also in the Creed: “We believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all that is seen and unseen.” That is why Filipino popular religiosity has the practice of pasing-tabi. For instance, before throwing water outside the window even when nobody is seen to be around, the typical Filipino will say, “Tabi, po!” (please step aside). The practice reflects the belief that the unseen spirits can get wet and perhaps take revenge for the act.   Concept of the departed Taray continues:

“Women, who know only too well the price of conflict, are also better equipped than men to prevent or resolve it. For generations, women have been educators for peace, both in their families and in their society. They have proven indispensable in terms of building bridges rather than walls,” said Kofi Annan, former Secretary General of the United Nations.  For instance, in Rwanda, the parliamentary election in September 2008 gave women 45 from the 80 seats at stake, resulting in the world’s first national legislative chamber with a female majority in a modern nation. The previous election, in 2003, had already given women 48.75% of the seats in Parliament.  Women oversee also institutions of justice that are critical to the country’s peace and stability. Since 2003, Ms. Aloysia Cyanzaire is the first female justice of the country, after heading previously the traditional courts established to try the less serious crimes in the 1994 genocide.  Aloisea Inyumba is, nowadays, a senator in the Rwandan Parliament. But, before that, she was a member of the Unity and Reconciliation Commission and minister of Family, Gender and Social Affairs in the immediate aftermath of the genocide. All the time, she encouraged Tutsi and Hutu women to start talking to each other in order to bridge the gap of ethnical barriers.  In Nepal, for instance, women victims of violence demanded to take part at the peace negotiations between the government and Maoist rebels and, at the 2008 legislative elections, political parties had to include 50% of women in their lists.  In Colombia, women’s convoys with thousands of participants travel to some of the most dangerous areas of the country to speak up against the war and its consequences, namely, poverty, and occasionally negotiate with guerrillas. In the posters they carry, they wrote slogans like “Women’s bodies are not spoils of war.”  

It was the popular Oprah Winfrey program and “there I learned about Congo, widely called the worst place on earth to be a woman. Awakened to the atrocities – millions dead, women being raped and tortured, children starving and dying in shocking numbers – I had to do something,” says this woman who, at 29, ran a photo business together with her boyfriend, in Portland (Oregon).  That same year, in September, Lisa Shannon ran her first marathon – more than a marathon, actually, 48 kilometers – to draw attention to this serious problem and raise some money. It took her almost eight hours and lots of pain. But she refused to give up. “Every half-kilometer represents a real woman’s life and the lives of her children. They will know that someone cares, that their lives are significant,” she said later. With that first run, she raised 28,000 dollars. In 2006, she completed her second 48-kilometer run, but this time joined by hundreds of other runners in ten states in the USA and four other countries, namely Germany and Ireland. The movement, Run for Congo Women, was thus born.  The money they raise goes to support Congolese women through a group called Women for Women International. This group sponsors more than a thousand war-affected Congolese women, who are raising more than 5,000 children, war orphans mainly. “They’ve lost everything, but they take children in when they can’t even feed their own properly,” says Lisa.  In January-February 2007, she made her first travel to Congo. For five weeks, she visited alone the South Kivu province. She went back in 2008. She could meet some of the women sponsored by her movement and even find, to her surprise, that one of them had named her newborn baby Lisa, probably the only one with such a name in the whole country.  Lisa, who is now 34, has just published her first book, A Thousand Sisters, where she details her experience in Congo. “In a place where no man with a gun is the good guy, I confront militias, massacres, murder cover-ups and unspeakable horror. Along the way, I am forced to learn lessons of survival, fear, gratitude and love from the women of Congo. A Thousand Sisters is a portrait of the world’s deadliest war through the intimate lens of friendship. It is a story of passion, hope, and my journey to carve out human bonds that cannot be touched by terror,” she wrote.  

“We will never, as a nation, move forward if we do not apologize to the women of this country for letting them down during the war; we will never, as a nation, know better days if we do not ask for the forgiveness of our mothers, sisters, partners and female compatriots for what we let them go through during the war. (…) As head of state, I apologize for the wrongs wrought on women; as Commander-in-Chief, I ask for forgiveness for the armed forces,” said President Koroma at the International Women’s Day.  “With this apology, Sierra Leone took an important symbolic step. A formal apology by the head of state is one of the simplest yet most fundamental measures that a government can take in fulfilling the right to reparations,” said International Center for Transitional Justice (ICTJ) president, David Tolbert. Sierra Leone started, in 2008, the implementation of a reparation program and the ICJT has been urging President Koroma’s government to ensure that this program reaches more women victims, particularly those in rural areas, women who suffered sexual violence and war widows. Although the government initially estimated that around 5,000 victims of sexual violence would register, only about 3,000 have done so. It is possible that some women victims of sexual violence had come forward as part of the more than 11,000 who registered as war widows to avoid the stigma associated with sexual violation.  

Generose Namburho used to work as a nurse at a hospital in eastern Congo. One night, a number of Hutu militiamen invaded her home, killed her husband and tried to rape her. She screamed for help and the attackers hacked off her leg with a machete, cooked the amputated part and ordered her children to eat it. One son, 12 years old, refused and was killed. She saw everything, before fainting from the serious wound. Women are a particularly vulnerable group in armed conflicts. And rape has increasingly become a weapon of war as much as a machine-gun or a shell, used either by a regular army or by guerrilla groups, because spreading terror among civilian populations is a very common means to try and achieve their goals.  “War rape intimidates the enemy. It demoralizes the enemy. It makes women pregnant and thereby furthers the cause of genocide. It tampers with the identity of the next generation. It breaks up families. It disperses entire populations. It drives a wedge between family members. It extends the oppressor’s dominance into future generations,” says Sally J. Scholtz, a philosophy professor at the Villanova University (Pennsylvania, USA).  In Africa, for instance, women and young girls, “as symbols of the honor of their communities, are raped to humiliate the women, the men in their families and their entire community,” says Véronique Aubert, deputy director of Amnesty International’s Africa Program.  According to Aubert, “rape and other forms of sexual violence have been used so extensively and with such impunity that we can only conclude that government security forces and armed opposition groups have been using these crimes as part of a deliberate strategy to instill terror in the civilian population.”   Especially vulnerable Violence usually associated with rape and sexual assault leaves women traumatized – physically as well as psychologically – in their most intimate being – sometimes injured beyond any possible reparation in their bodies – incontinent, pregnant against their will and sometimes contaminated with diseases such as syphilis and AIDS. And, if they manage to survive and go back home, they are rejected by their own families for having given birth to a child “of the enemy.”  In Africa, for instance, apart from raising the children, women have a very important role in the household economy, mainly in rural areas. According to the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD), recent estimates say that women provide approximately 70% of agricultural labor and produce 90% of all food. Killed in armed conflicts, displaced, sexually assaulted and with subsequent diseases, they can no longer give their contribution to support the family.  The International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), in a survey published last February to assess the real vulnerability of women in conflict areas, recalls that “women and children are the object of special respect and must be protected, in particular, against all forms of indecent assault (Articles 76 and 77 of Protocol I additional to the 1977 Geneva Conventions),” but, under humanitarian law, women

A few days back, a friend of mine sent to me a very interesting book: The Schism: Catholics without Pope. The author, Riccardo Chiaberge, introduces 14 very interesting and dynamic persons, people oriented and dedicated to link new aspects of life with the Gospel. I would say that they all are charismatic persons, in whose performance the Holy Spirit is present and active. They find themselves in frontier conditions, for example: a sister in Africa facing AIDS; a doctor in a hospital for infertile couples dealing with issues of fertilization in vitro; a medical researcher dealing with stem cells; a theologian striving to reformulate the theology of creation within the context of modern cosmology, and so forth. The common bottom line is that all of them are operating in frontier situations. All of them are motivated by a real passion and compassion for people vexed by problems without solutions. What they are doing might not be hundred per cent in line with the general statement of the hierarchical Church but, all in all, I would say they are real artisans of the Kingdom of God. They enjoy sound intentions and the will to be in communion with the Church, though their initiatives are not as yet fully in line with the general statements of the magisterium. In the above mentioned artisans of the Kingdom, a new child is conceived. The hierarchy cannot prepare the ‘trouser’ or the ‘skirt’ before the new creature is born. At the origin of conception, there is the Holy Spirit, not the hierarchy. The hierarchy, later on, will welcome to the community the newly-born child. A certain amount of tension between the charismatic and the institutional elements in the Church is inevitable.  The Holy Spirit is the first agent of evangelization (Redemptoris Missio, 21) and precedes the full establishment of the Church; He sets the process of personal conversion and of the coming of the Kingdom into motion. The full belonging to the Church will come later. The Church cannot control the dynamism of the Holy Spirit, but only recognizes His presence and action with the passage of time through a challenging journey of discernment. Therefore, Chiaberge’s labelling the 14 protagonists as schismatic faithful is by all means inappropriate. They are not separated from the Church; they are not rebels. They are simply ahead of the formal approval of the Church which cannot but come after years of testing and experiences.   Present in all cultures  The Spirit has been present in the world from the beginning of creation. He is present in cultures, peoples, religions even before the Gospel is proclaimed in that given environment. The Spirit is manifested in the traces of truth, wisdom, charity, solidarity, patience, piety, faith and hope which are present in every culture and religion. The philosopher Saint Justin was well conversant with the Greek, Roman and Hebrew wisdom. He coined the expression: Semina Verbi (seeds of the Word) to convey his conviction that the Word and the Spirit of