"The Holy Spirit is palpably present"

 In our most recent blog post, 2014- 15 Dominican Volunteer Juan Miguel Alvarez reflects on his recent trip to the Vatican to witness the canonization of Archbishop Oscar Romero. Juan Miguel also  tells of his spiritual encounter with Pope Francis and how both men  continue to shape his faith journey.

1.                  What   was it like to be at the Vatican for the canonization of Archbishop Oscar Romero and meeting Pope Francis and some of the Cardinals? Please give us a small taste of that experience.

I cannot speak on the synod itself since I was not a synod member ,but being close to it and spending time with those who were in it was an exciting and refreshing experience. You could see the passion the youth people brought to this synod – they were a fantastic group of intelligent and deeply caring young people with an enormous desire to improve their Church. I also enjoyed meeting some of the cardinals and bishops I have always admired, such as Cardinal Tagle, Cardinal Maradiaga, and Bishop Robert Barron.

       
The canonization of Oscar Romero, Paul VI, and five others was a powerful mass. I sat with the auditors, close to the front, with the banners of these saints directly in front of us. As I looked up at them, at St. Peter’s Basilica, Pope Francis, the hundreds of priests, and the hundreds of thousands of people gathered in St. Peter’s Square, I felt overjoyed at the magnitude of the day. Having led a couple of trips to El Salvador and seeing the sites of Oscar Romero’s life, I thought of the wonderful people I met there and I realized how much this canonization meant for them, for Latin America, and for the entire Church. There were Salvadorian flags everywhere, but also people from all over the world. It was a true testament to the universality of the Church. 

2014-15 Dominican Volunteer Juan Miguel Alvarez

2.                 What about your experience surprised you and impacted you?

I had so many impactful experiences on this trip. Among them were the canonization mass, my visit to the catacombs of St. Sebastian, seeing the pope’s home, getting some inside-scoop looks into the conclave process, meeting young, passionate Catholics from all over the world, and of course meeting the pope. I was impacted by the levity of Pope Francis. He must have one of the busiest schedules on the planet, yet every time I interacted with him, he was laughing, he was present, and he was relaxed. No matter how tired he was, or how late it was, or how many people had asked for a selfie, his face always lit up when someone approached him for a conversation or a blessing. 

Juan Miguel, his wife Yadira, and Pope Francis

3.                 Did any part of your experience lead you to reflect on your service year with DVUSA?

I remember two times that I was reminded of my DVUSA experience. The first was during the canonization mass of Oscar Romero. I remembered my family, my friendships in El Salvador, and the families that have gotten to know in Chicago. I thought of my students at Cristo Rey, the families at my parish, Immaculate Conception, and the families I met at Casa Juan Diego. I imagined what St. Peter’s Square might look like one day celebrating the canonization of a young person from Pilsen. The second time was on an afternoon that I was able to walk around and explore Rome’s many beautiful churches and basilicas. I came across Santa Maria Sopra Minerva, a Dominican basilica that is home to St. Catherine of Siena’s tomb. I reflected on the year that my soul crossed paths with Dominican spirituality and thanked God for it. 

Juan Miguel and some of his students during  his year as a Dominican Volunteer at Casa Juan Diego youth center in Chicago

4.                 As a Latino, how have the legacies of Pope Francis and Oscar Romero impacted your life?

In different ways, they have both been hugely impactful on my spirituality. Pope Francis has made me reconsider the ways that the Church ministers to all people who seek God; he strives to find the sweet spot where the Church is 100% faithful in teaching the eternal truths we have inherited from Tradition, the scriptures, and the apostles, and also being merciful and charitable in its pastoral approach. He understands that this is not an “either/or” situation, so I have been intrigued and drawn in by his approach. He also has more patience, joy, and dedication than I will ever have. The Holy Spirit is palpably present when you spend even a few brief moments with him. 

Oscar Romero has been personally convicting and inspiring in my spirituality. He knew better than most the danger he was putting himself by standing up for justice, but he did what his conscience told him to do, regardless of the presence of these life-threatening people and groups. By their own government, the poor of El Salvador were kicked while they were down, stood upon to keep them down, and then brutally murdered. Romero radically and unabashedly lived out the gospel in that ugly reality, so seeing his birthplace, the site of his martyrdom, his home, was something that has made me reflect on the ugly realities that plague my communities – the city of Chicago, the immigrant families I am able to accompany, or my neighborhood – and radically live out the gospel in those places.

5.                 You  and your wife, Yadira experienced this journey together. What was it like experiencing the Vatican as a couple?

It was so life-giving! My wife was one of the few married young auditors; it was great to see how many people went out of their way to welcome and accommodate me as her spouse. They recognized that the role of the auditor was important and that it was, in fact, the reason each of these young people was brought to Rome, but that nothing takes precedence over your primary vocation. First and foremost, we were viewed as spouses – as a family. Through the charity and generosity of so many people, I was able to accompany my wife to nourishing, beautiful events, including the canonization mass, exploring the Vatican gardens, a powerful adoration night in San Lorenzo’s, and of course our various moments with the pope. Getting his blessing over our marriage was unforgettable. 

Juan Miguel and his wife Yadira

Communities, Both Big and Small

Our latest blog post comes from Dominican Volunteer. Jake is a member of the House of Connections community in Chicago and reflects on his communities, both near and far.
Thank your for your service Jake.

DV Jake Moran

"Sometimes if you don’t take the time to sit down and reflect on life and experience, it seems that there’s nothing to say about it, nothing noteworthy about what has been.

That is exactly what I thought about my experience so far as a Dominican Volunteer before I sat down to write this post. Please, don’t get me wrong. I’ve done great work at my ministry site. I’ve loved getting to know those in my community, spending time with them, and praying with them. And it’s been exciting living in a new part of Chicago. But, I didn’t see any deeper meaning or deeper development in myself coming through this service, community, and prayer.

But there IS deeper meaning, deeper development. All that is needed is to scrape the grime of mundane regularity from the surface in order to see the impressive treasure that an experience really has been.

The House of Connections, the community house in which I live, is definitely one of those treasures. The two Dominican Sisters (Bernadine and Marilyn) and one other Dominican Volunteer (Lacey) that I live with are supportive, kind, funny, and caring, making living with them an enjoyable experience. We each bring many different experiences and identities to the community. For example, we are an intergenerational community: I am in my early 20’s, Lacey is in her early 30’s, and Sister Marilyn and Sister Bernadine are a bit older than that. We come from different parts of the country, different religious upbringings, different traditions, different house practices… and, yet, we have merged all of our differences to make this wonderful community. I would even venture to say that the differences between us are refreshing and bring value to our community.

And, I can definitely learn from these differences between us. Lacey very much values relaxation and contemplation. This directly transfers to her group prayer of choice - contemplative prayer. She will often play worship music and ask us to tune in to the music, relaxing in the presence of God. Marilyn can always find joy and excitement in every day life, even in the smallest of things. Bernadine possesses amazing courage and intellect. I often find that I lack these same characteristics and abilities that my community members exude. I find it hard to engage in relaxation or contemplation, I often get caught up in day-to-day life and miss the beauty of life, and I can lack courage at times. I have much to learn from them. Thankfully, the year is only just beginning. 

Jake, and his house of connections community, fellow DV Lacey Green, And Dominican Sisters Marilyn Derr and Bernadine Karge

Even though it has only been a month, and I am fairly new at my job at Sarah’s Inn and fairly new in North Lawndale (the Chicago community in which I live), I feel like I belong, I feel at ease. Since day one, my work and local community have welcomed me with kindness. I feel welcomed even though I am different than the average person in these places. At work, I am one of the only male employees, which is not surprising since I work at a domestic violence agency. In my Chicago community, I am one of the few white people that live in the community. Despite this, the members of Sister Marilyn’s parish, St. Agatha, were incredibly kind and welcoming when I first went to mass there. In fact, some other North Lawndale residents even say hello to me on the street or even strike up a friendly conversation with me (which is unordinary for Chicago).

Having lived in Chicago and the surrounding Chicagoland areas my whole life, I have always been told not to go to neighborhoods like the one I live in now. I was told that these neighborhoods are “bad” and that the people are bad too. But, having lived here and having talked to individuals from the community, I have come to the conclusion that the majority of the people living in North Lawndale, and in most other areas affected by poverty and crime, are kind people just trying to get by. There are a small number of people wreaking havoc in these neighborhoods. These people labeling North Lawndale and communities like it as “bad neighborhoods” have never actually lived in any of these communities, and may have never even been to any of these communities. They do not see the strength, kindness, or the beauty of these people. They only see the crime, the poverty, and the violence in these neighborhoods.  They refuse to realize and see that years of oppression and many current systemic inequalities have resulted in the current situations in these neighborhoods. They refuse to do anything to help these neighborhoods, keeping their consciences clean by dumping complete blame on those who live in these neighborhoods. They say that the people in these neighborhoods are lazy, corrupt, stupid… and that is what has lead them to their current situation and is what keeps them in their current situation. They could not be further from the truth.

I like to write poetry and decided to write a poem on my experiences in and my thoughts on North Lawndale. I figured I would share it with you:

“Bad Neighborhoods”

Trees defy gravity —

Horizontal to the sky

grow their branches, high

with absolute beauty, yet free of vanity

This community defies probability

Its character shrouded by lies

It gets by

On nothing, no resource availability

A tree flourishes here

The soil parched

Sunlight sparse

It grows taller with every drop of sweat, every tear

 I have learned a lot from the communities that I have become a part of because of my decision to do Dominican Volunteers USA this year. I have learned a great deal from both the community of people I live with and from my larger neighborhood community. But, community is even larger than just who we live with and what neighborhood, city, state, or country we live in. We, the whole human race, are all one community. We are all one in God, and, being one in God, we have the responsibility to take care of each other, to take care of every single person here on this Earth.

Jake And Sister Bernadine

Living in Relationship and Interconnectedness

August 8, 2018
Feast of St. Dominic

Allison Beyer

DVUSA Orientation Commissioning Mass

Mariandale Retreat Center

DVUSA Codirector Allison Beyer

In today’s Gospel (MT 15: 21-28) we meet a woman who has a name but her name was not recorded. Her name, like millions of women before and after her, is lost to us. Her actions and impact are not. It is precisely because of her audacity and persistence that she is remembered and recorded in our Holy book.

[Let’s recap; in 1-2 minutes in your own words tell the person next to you what you just heard in the Gospel. Take turns. The first person to listen will then add anything that the first person might have forgotten or left out.]

When I realized this was the Gospel for today I thought “Oh no! This is my least favorite Gospel!!” That’s why I thought we could start by looking at it together-- to practice bringing things that are difficult to our community, to practice our Dominican value of study and contemplation in community.

I’ll share with you how I hear this Gospel. First, everytime I hear or read this passage, I feel heavy in my heart, anxious in my stomach. It is an uncomfortable scene and one that is difficult for me to return to.

The woman, who has a name but we do not know it, goes to Jesus on behalf of her daughter who is being tormented by a demon.

Sometimes, some days, some years--we are this woman. We are desperate for healing, for answers, for action. Our desperation and love for another or our own very lives makes us bold. We do not shrink before a crowd of critics. We would walk any mile, go any distance, speak out and advocate until we make the need heard and known.

Call to mind a time when you were desperate on behalf of another or yourself. Remember how this desperation feels in your body. Your head. Your chest. Your gut. Your hands.

Sometimes, some days, some years--we are the daughter. We are utterly vulnerable. We are dependent on the ability, privilege, voice, decision, power of someone else. We are dominated by brokenness. Physical challenges, depression, anxiety, rage, grief, illness, exhaustion, poverty, marginalization. Perhaps we are even unable to seek the help we so desperately need to be well, to be integrated. We rely on the assistance of of another to get by. It is difficult to imagine in the thick of our brokenness that we won’t always be tormented day after day. Joy--the joy that we hear of in the first reading (JER 31:1-7), praising God with tambourine and dance, is unfathomable, out of reach. If we had experienced it before, it is now nothing but a memory.

Call to mind a time when you were tormented by your brokenness. Remember how this feels in your body. Your head. Your chest. Your gut. Your hands.

The woman goes to Jesus on behalf of her daughter. She is ignored.

He doesn’t even respond.

The disciples are annoyed. The woman won’t stop talking, trying to get to Jesus, making a scene. She is not even Jewish. Who does this woman think she is?

Sometimes, some days, some years--we are the disciples. We find ourselves in a position of power, of security. We belong to the majority group, our identity is valued and protected. We are able to determine who is allowed “in” or “out” of our group. We cling to this identity because it is comfortable, because it is familiar, because it is safe. If we insulate ourselves, we can maintain some semblance of peace, order and stability.

Call to mind a time in your life when you were comfortable in you your security and opted to tune out or avoid others different from yourself. Remember how living in a defensive state of fear and protection feels in your body. Your head. Your chest. Your gut. Your hands.

The disciples decide to get rid of the problem--the woman is the problem. Disrupting their peace and mission. The woman persists.

Jesus, the Good Teacher, finally responds.

“I’ve got other things to do.” “I’m too busy.” “Your daughter is not my concern, not my problem.”

Sometimes, some days, some years--we are Jesus here. We are focused, determined, heaven-bent on fulfilling a challenging plan that demands all of our attention and energy so as to not become disheartened or back out. We have carefully, and maybe even painfully, discerned our path and we will be undeterred until we reach our goal. Our resolve is strong and our vision myopic. It is nearly impossible to take in new information, so set are our eyes on the end goal. We see things and people outside the scope of our vision as distractions and setbacks.

Call to mind a time in your life when you were determined and unmoving. Remember how this feels in your body. Your head. Your chest. Your gut. Your hands.

The woman, who has a name but we do not know it, persists. Jesus compares her to a dog. The woman notes that, actually, she is being treated as even less than a dog--so stingy are the disciples, and most devastatingly, Jesus, in responding to her need.

And Jesus perhaps is shocked by her words, her character, her audacity to tell the truth and shatter the blinders he was using to dismiss her. This is a conversion moment for Jesus, one of the most intensely human portraits of Jesus. In this moment, Jesus sees the woman. He hears her. Her interruption allows Jesus to wake up and to respond with compassion, to widen his circle, to broaden his mission, to adjust his understanding of his own calling.

Sometimes, some days, and, if we are so very blessed, some years--we are Jesus in this moment, after seeing and hearing and taking seriously a woman whose name we do not know. We are Jesus, breaking out of ourselves. We are able to see the truth of love as expansive; we recognize that when we recognize the dignity of one, it does not subtract or negate the dignity of another. We are arrested in our tracks, convicted by the truth of our own indifference, willing ignorance, complicit bias, and we are compelled to cross and dismantle previously established borders. We wake up and see with startling clarity the actual person who is front of us, who has been asking for our attention, our companionship, our gifts, our belief. We wake up and we move. The best apology is changed behavior. Jesus owns his freedom to change, to choose a new response, to upend old patterns, to begin a new relationship. He pays attention. He is humbled.

Call to mind a time in your life when you felt convicted, converted, called to action. Remember what it feels like to accept a new truth, to take on a new reality, to respond with your life. Remember what it feels like to grow, to expand, to give, to love. In your head. Your chest, Your gut. Your hands.

Dominican Volunteers will spend this next year dedicated to the four pillars of Prayer, Community, Ministry and Study. Our hope is that in relationship this year you will remember the times that you yourself have been the daughter, the woman with a name no one remembered, the disciples. And that when you encounter the daughter, the woman, or the disciples in someone else, you remember the example of Jesus, of Dominic. We pray that you allow yourself to hear the stories of the students, the parents, the survivors, the abusers, the children, the hungry, enter into your own story, disrupt the path you “thought” you were on. Allow their story to enter yours so much that it changes yours as you live it. We pray that you are transformed by these relationships and the ever-continued awakening to the truth of our interconnectedness and the ever-present opportunity for change.

‘The Heart of Ministry is Relationship.' Jesus knew this. The woman and her daughter reminded him. Dominic knew this. That is why St. Dominic traveled by foot--to stay physically and literally grounded by putting himself in a position that would allow him to encounter others on his way. His life invited this kind of relational interruption. He knew that the destination was never more pressing than the person in front of him in any given moment, and so he chose to live in a way that would increase opportunities for connection and an expansion of shared wisdom, shared truth.

We give thanks today in this Eucharist for the encounter with one another made possible by our retreat here at Mariandale. We give thanks to the Dominican sisters who inspire and make possible DVUSA, and especially for the sisters that open their homes to the volunteers. We give thanks with hearts full of hope and eager anticipation for the 5 newest Dominican Volunteers and their commitment to respond to the Gospel with their lives.