The cheerful day has come – Christ has risen from the dead!
So rejoice and look to the future with trust. Let this special time be the time of the Faith and real meeting with the Risen Lord. May the joy of this wonderful event fill your hearts and brighten up every day of your life.
Acholi´s team
These are the closing words of the Easter message sent by Fr. Enrique Sánchez González to all his Comboni confreres.
Below we publish the message.
MISSION, DEATH AND RESURRECTION
“The great Works of God are only born at the foot of Calvary”
(Writings 2325)
The celebration of Easter, mystery par excellence, which makes us enter into the death that marks our humanity and into the life without limits, a gift of God, that in the resurrection of the Lord Jesus makes us live in a time of hope and faith.
How to live this mystery so that it becomes a source of life in this time of contrasts, where the dryness of our fragility is compared with the invitation to live the joy of rediscovering the ever new presence of the Lord who, from the depths of the empty grave, reminds us that He is alive and present in our midst?
Life and death, past and future, pain and joy, darkness and light, war and peace, love and hate. How many other combinations, in addition to these, mark our existence, our human travelling on the divine paths that lead us to that eternity which we cannot define, much less say, with the poor words of our daily actions?
Immersed in the frantic rush of our work and our efforts to change the world, each one goes through the entire day with his vision, his interests, his ideas, and his plans. With the claim to possess the whole truth, to know and to manage everything even more than others.
We live with an arrogance that has become infectious, that makes no distinction between rich and poor, great and small. We all feel entitled to criticize, point out the limitations, faults and sins of others. The criteria of distrust, suspicion, advantage and competition are trying to impose themselves while trust, sharing, support of others, mercy and forgiveness sound like music that disturbs the ear and does not penetrate the heart.
Isn’t this the scenario in which we find ourselves as we live the mission as an ancient and ever new proposal that prevents us from getting lost in the tragic, pessimistic and depressing vision of the present day of our history? Isn’t, instead, the mission lived in silence, in a hidden way, in anonymity that makes us “hidden stones” that speak about a life which does not make noise and does not need to be advertised? Isn’t this the mission that makes us live intimately with the mystery of a death that becomes life?
A death that is not the last word
Today, more than ever, we are confronted with situations that go beyond the imaginable, news stories that become yellow, red and of all colours.
Violence and war destroy entire populations and condemn millions of people to flee, and no one knows where, as refugees, displaced persons, migrants or just captives in their own countries. These images have become the choreography of TV shows that transform such human drama into telenovelas which are stories really taking place but presented to us as if they were the winner of an Oscar.
Fortunately, the mission allows us instead to tell these stories in another way: it becomes impossible to silence the testimony of those who have seen the destruction and death not through the screen but on the face and bodies of brothers and sisters with whom until shortly before we were working, celebrating the Eucharist, studying in their small schools with thatched roofs, celebrating the life and the joy of being in this world.
We no longer see Christ who lies dead on the wooden cross. As missionaries we have discovered, through the eyes and the deep pain of so many of our confreres, that today the Lord climbs upon the cross of the indifference of the powerful people of our time, of those who forget about the poor, of those who promote the exaltation of power and the idolatry of money.
The riots, protests and clashes gather the desperate cry of so many brothers and sisters who cannot manage any longer, do not know how to survive in a world that seems to deny those minimum conditions necessary to call life certain types of existence.
The great temptation is to fall into the trap of thinking that the shadow of death has taken hold of our time and has asserted itself as a criterion to govern our history.
And how many more deaths do we find closer to us? Is it not death the destruction of the missions in which we work in South Sudan, or the violence that does not end in Central Africa, where there are so many people still forced to flee their homes in fear of their lives?
Is it not death the decrease in the number of missionaries in our Institute? Or our having to give up a missionary presence where we can clearly see that such presence could do so much good? And is it not true that the closing of communities is experienced by us as an actual funeral, because we have no missionaries to spare?
Don’t we perhaps feel like dying when we are refused permission to enter a country or we are denied the opportunity to continue our service to the poor, to the local Church, simply due to the ideology of the politicians of the moment? Is it not death the mediocrity that threatens us every time we try to organize our lives according to our own interests, when we seek excuses to justify our unwillingness to leave for the mission, to obey, to accept the mission as a gift that should be received without preconditions?
It is indeed the mission that introduces and accompanies us into the mystery of death, because when it is lived in all honesty, we cannot say anything other than what the Lord himself shouted from the depths of his spirit, ‘Father, your will be done’.
St. Daniel Comboni says it with words that describe the scenario he contemplated in the heart of Africa: “Confronted by so many afflictions, among the mountains of crosses and sorrows… the Catholic missionary’s heart has been shaken, but this is no reason for him to despair; strength, courage and hope can never desert him.” (W 5646).
The mission introduces us to the mystery and beauty of the resurrection
There is an afterlife after death which for the mission is the foundation of everything, the guarantee of a future that is not built on the basis of our resources, ability or strength.
The mission makes us touch and contemplate with our own eyes the ever present project of God, who never rests, who tries to build a humanity in which we can all discover ourselves as brothers and sisters.
God is at work and, despite our walking through paths that do not lead to life, He does not give up his dream of seeing one day all his sons and daughters gathered in a family where there is no more need to stick labels of religions, ideologies, political preferences, races, cultures or colours.
The Risen Christ reminds us that for God the time has come, but that He is not in a hurry, that He will always be willing to wait for our arrival, hoping that in this time of waiting, there will not be a waste of lives sacrificed because of our inability to think less with the head and more with the heart.
The mission allows us to understand the resurrection as the miracle of a life that cannot be destroyed by selfishness and ambition without limits, but that asserts itself as a joy which rises from the heart of God that we carry in the frailty of our human being.
For this reason there is no real mission that does not involve death in us, a death which is not synonymous with destruction, but which turns into an opportunity to be finally reborn to the true life that only the Lord can give us as a gift of the Father.
“He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we, having died to sins, might live to righteousness. In fact we have been healed by his wounds” (1Pt 2:24-25).
Happy Easter to all.
Fr. Enrique Sánchez G., mccj Superior General
Dear friends,
I hope you are all well. Myself I am very fine here. Meanwhile i feel
at home and I am very happy to help the pupils by teaching
computer lessons.
Through help from Germany I got ten laptops. During day time
I am in the classroom and in the evenings I teach the sisters
and the people from the nearby village how to work with a computer.
Every day I am very busy and happy to give the people here
some perspectives for their future.
HAPPY EASTER and many greetings from Alenga in Uganda,
Elena!
An up-to-date reading of the Plan of Comboni – based upon the missionary challenges of today – reveals two prophetic intuitions whose value, with the passing of time, has only grown:
1.“The regeneration of Africa with Africa” (Writings 2753).
Daniel Comboni, due to his experience and that of other great apostles, is convinced that to achieve this “regeneration” there is no other way but to involve the African people as authentic protagonist of their history and builder of their liberation.
2. “… It will find an approving echo, support, favour and help in the hearts of the Catholics of the entire world, clothed and filled as they are by the spirit of that superhuman charity which embraces the immense vastness of the universe and which our divine Saviour came to bring to the earth” (W 2790).
With even greater audacity, Daniel Comboni declares that the realisation of this Plan for the regeneration of Africa requires the unconditional collaboration of all the forces of the Church and civil society, conquering all boundaries, prejudices or mean-spirited arguments.
These pages will be concerned with the latter aspect, the urgency, that is, to unify the commitment of all “Catholics” in favour of a single mission. The term “ministry” (ministerium = diakonía = service) helps us to better render the thought and the praxis of Daniel Comboni. We are aware that, in the Plan, he never uses such a word and that it is a term which is not found in the baroque language nor in the Tridentine theology of his time. By “ministry” we mean the missionary responsibility of all the baptised, without exception, to cause to emerge the Kingdom of love and justice (universal brotherhood) inaugurated by the person and the event of Jesus Christ among us. Daniel Comboni did not simply propose an organisational strategy but a manner of being a mature Church.
Let us go directly to the text of the Plan so as to achieve an understanding of the breadth of its horizons (cf. The final edition dated Verona 1871, S E2741-2791):
A) What theological foundation does Comboni place as the basis for his Plan?
It is a Christological foundation and a martyrial response:
B) What vision has Daniel Comboni of the Church that enables him to require such a great commitment from all Catholics without distinction?
It is a challenge which, then as now, seemed almost impossible, especially if one takes into account the discouragement and frustration embedded in many ecclesiastical leaders.
The love which Comboni has for Nigrizia leads him to ask, concretely, for:
The goal which Daniel Comboni wants to reach is that of giving dignity to the entire African population:
To sum up, we find in this proposal of Daniel Comboni an ecclesiological vision that is extremely open and inclusive, which comprehends all the ministries (from that of the Pope to that of the most humble catechist or artisan) while seeking to carry on the mission in favour of the most needy. And this is not derived from mere philanthropy or a romantic sense of ingenuous heroism but from the sound motivation that flows from the baptismal event which existentially reveals to us the love of God and makes us brothers and sisters in the same vocation to sanctity and ability. This practical way of creating ministry will find a response only a century later in the post-conciliar theology of the Second Vatican Council.
Even if the aspects which we have indicated deserve more thorough study, available space allows us just to present, in the form of a Decalogue, a series of teachings we may draw from the Plan of Comboni:
1) Daniel Comboni recognises the importance of the ministry of the Pope (with whom he dialogued on various occasions) and of Propaganda Fide. To them he addresses his Plan, showing ecclesial communion.
2) The audacity of his “dreams” derives from his facing up to the situation of suffering and oppression in which his brothers and sisters live. His Plan is the fruit of solidarity within a missionary method of incarnation.
3) Supporting his position there is his capacity to interact with all sorts of people with human and spiritual maturity. Ministry in the Plan presupposes people who are integrated and capable of authentic relationships.
4) We find in the Plan a sort of anthropology that goes beyond its epoch and recognises the full dignity of people.
5) In the Plan there emerges a model of a Church in communion and participation, born of baptismal consecration and of the common vocation to full life in God.
6) In it the laypeople find their full ministerial expression. Not in a pyramid-shaped visualisation but as co-responsible people of God.
7) Women find the space where they can be valued for what they are and as consecrated people. Comboni is a true pioneer in this.
8) The work of evangelisation envisioned by the Plan is inclusive; no human dimension is excluded as all the human dimensions find space in God’s project.
9) The strategic plan of insertion that is proposed in order to render the work possible, without further tragedies, presupposes a praiseworthy concern for planning and evaluation.
10) All of this is included in the mystery of the Cross, aware that it is a matter of knowingly giving one’s life but, above all, of trusting that the works of God are born and grow at the foot of Calvary. And that it is the Holy Spirit who – today, as in the past – guides the mission.
Fr. Rafael González Ponce, mccj
The traditions of mourning the death of a loved one here in Ethiopia are some of the most different to us coming from a western culture. Funerals are significant occasions here that involve the entire community. A white tent pitched alongside a house or the street is a sure sign of a family in mourning. When a person dies, mourners gather at the deceased’s home to comfort the family. The mourning tent will remain up for more than a week and during that time the family is never alone. Friends and relatives (and distant relatives and acquaintances) will come by each day to speak and offer their condolences but mostly to sit in silence with the family. A typical funeral may be attended by thousands of people.
The family is usually a member of a local community group called an Idir. It is a self-help funeral insurance club, and members meet monthly to make decisions about funds. At the committee members’ discretion, funds might also be used for credit or during times of hardship. A typical Idir may be composed of 50 families. Every month each family in the Idir contributes approx 15 birr (1$) to the fund, and if someone in their family dies, a sum of money will be given to the family to help with the costs of the burial and funeral. While the family is grieving, the Idir will also quickly mobilize to make decisions for them and provide the mourning tent, large pots for cooking, utensils, chairs, benches and tables. The Idir’s whole raison d’être is to provide a dignified and proper time of mourning for the family and it does this by lifting the entire weight of funeral logistics and finances from the family.
When visiting the family’s house to mourn, it is amazing that many times no words are said at all. People will come and go, without saying anything or without even directly greeting the mourning family members. Sometimes in life words are insufficient and Ethiopians abide by this truth when it comes to mourning. The important thing is to be present. A few times, my (Mark) whole office has been closed for the entire staff to go mourn. Our whole group (with women wearing black scarves over their heads) would enter the compound or house and sit down in silence on long wooden benches, with seats closest to the mourning family being presented to the elder or highest respected guests. We would sit in silence for maybe half an hour with a piece of bread or roasted barley being served to us. Then after a suitable amount of time, Fr. Sisto, the director of our office and most elder (with appropriate white hair) would stand and say a few words and a prayer for the deceased and the family. Our whole staff would then process out quietly without a word.
Forty days after the death there is another big celebration to mark the end of the main mourning period. Typically during the forty days, family members of the deceased would wear different garments (mostly black) and hairstyles (widows often cutting off their hair). Many times some relatives would come and sleep at the mourning family’s house for the entire 40 days to ensure that they are not alone. A small memorial altar is usually assembled with a photo of the deceased and a burning candle. The 40 day celebration typically involves a memorial mass at the church (for Orthodox and Catholics) followed by a meal at the family’s home. The white tent will be set up again and members of the Idir will come and help with cooking and preparations. In October, the father of one of our closest friends died while I (Maggie) was working in the south and being in the rural countryside I didn’t receive the news until a few days after the funeral. After returning from the South, I really wanted to attend the 40 day celebration to give my support to her and her family.
Our friend lives in Awassa but her family is from the small town of Kebre Mengist about 10 hours away. I stayed at her house here in Awassa the night before our departure so that we could catch the 4am bus together. We arrived two days before the celebration to help with preparations. We walked from the bus station and were in the middle of normal conversation as we entered the family compound when suddenly everyone burst into tears and wails. This was a final outlet to release the residual sadness that still remained. We wailed until one of the elders, an Uncle, simply said, ‘it is enough’ and then we moved on.
The next day at dawn an ox was bought and slaughtered and women began arriving in large numbers with baskets of onions, garlic, tomatoes and carrots tied on their backs. They sat under the shade of the trees, working away at peeling and chopping vegetables or sorting lentils in colourful woven baskets, and chatted as they worked. The full day they prepared stews and injera for the next days’ lunch. I joined in and they let me stir the stew in a massive 200L pot. The work was broken up by coffee ceremonies throughout the day. Incense wafted in the air. People sat and people stayed.
They appreciated that I wanted to be there with them, and I was even given a sleeping place of honour in a bed (..with my friend and her aunt!). Eight other relatives slept all around us on various forms of mats and mattresses on the ground. The mass at the Orthodox Church the next morning was simple and meaningful and hundreds of people came afterwards to share lunch together. For us, we barely left the sleeping room all day. We sat, and people came, and rested, and told stories and shared memories. There was far more talking than during the days immediately after the death, which reveals that the 40 days of intense mourning, letting all the feelings and tears out, has brought a healing that may otherwise not have come without this journey.
– Maggie
Maggie, Mark and Emebet Banga, Comboni Lay Missionaries, Awassa, Ethiopia
