Being Catholic

I was thinking how much being Catholic means to me.  Recently, with everything that’s going on in the USA – with the leading political parties being at odds I am so thankful to have a Catholic vision.  Don’t get me wrong, I am so proud of my culture- being Mexican-American has always been such a huge part of my identity.  I love my roots and the possibilities that this country has given immigrants like myself.  However, in times of crisis, I am glad that my faith has given me a more integral vision.  A few weeks ago, when I used “All Lives Matter” to express my views I have been told that I lack empathy for the black community.  I reflected on that comment for some time and finally concluded that when you put a color in front of “lives matter” it states the side you are in the argument.  As a Catholic, I believe in the sacredness of each individual.  Simply put lives matter!

That’s why you won’t see me with a banner for black or blue lives- because God tells me that all lives matter.  It’s easy to get emotionally involved and pick a side - forgetting that as Catholics we are meant to love everyone.  This is no way negates the suffering of a group.  As a child my heroes were Martin Luther King Jr and Frederick Douglass- I have loved studying the Civil Rights Movement because as a person of color I understood their fight. I too, have felt different and at times suffered racism and discrimination.

When I was a child, I also wanted to become a police officer.  At the time my father was an alcoholic so I would joke, “I probably won’t be a police officer or else I will be jailing my dad daily.”  However, as I got closer to college I research what it took to be a police office and when I saw that starting salary was almost the same as a teacher even though they risked their lives I quickly put a lid on that dream.  Recently, I researched the cops responsible for the death of George Floyd and I discovered that most of them were rookie cops, they were new on the job.  While I don’t know their hearts and maybe they are racist – I got to thinking how many mistakes I have made when I just started a new job.  However, some mistakes can cause a person’s life.

In the end, I realized that I just couldn’t take sides, I stuck by my “all lives matter” comment because as a Catholic (which is how I most identify myself) my faith challenges me to not side, but to love all.  

Quarantine: Be Still

It’s easy to lose heart during this time because we are a country used to living on the go.  Thus, for many (myself included) the changing pace of quarantine at times can be extremely challenging.  Restrictions on employment, education, religious life - even our social life have changed the way we live.  I think I have voiced my frustration with teaching virtually and how I miss church life.  Sometimes, I can get easily discouraged especially when I read the news about all the chaos happening within our country.  At times, I can get stuck thinking my experience of quarantine is universal, but when I check in with my students and discover that they are not working on their school work because they are trying to help parents who have been laid off due to Covid-19 earn a living or when I check in with my fraternity and discover that many of the elderly members who live alone are struggling with loneliness – I realize that some have it worse than me.  It’s easy to complain, to see the flaws and focus so much on struggle the that we miss those hurting worse than me.   

I love words and I have a verse written on the wall of my room, “Be still and know that I am God.”  Every morning it’s the first thing I see, but I think the familiarity made it almost invisible for some time.  Recently, I woke up and was feeling restless from being cooped at a home too much and I looked at the verse on my wall and this lightbulb went off in my head and I realize that I needed to live by those words during this quarantine.  In this country activity is glorified.  We are always on the go and something out of our control is telling us to slow down and be still.  Many Americans have trouble with slowing down, I mean I just have to cross the south border and already in Mexico I feel a difference in pace.  This time though, I am being asked to slow down in my own home and for someone usually on the go it hasn’t been without its moments of restlessness.

Yesterday, as I sat on my porch with my dad, mom and Francis waiting for everyone else to get home from work (our usual daily ritual) I realized that one of my dreams is to retire to live in a farm.  On this afternoon that slower pace of farm life that inspired this dream felt utterly boring.  I was thinking maybe, this is the way I will feel if I live away in seclusion (smile).  In seconds, I almost discarded my dream for the noise and the activity of city life!  That’s when it hit me - how condition I am to the hustle and bustle and how much I need to contemplate and really discover the beauty of what draws me to the verse, “be still and know that I am God.”  All this time, its meaning was that in order to be utterly present with God (in prayer) I needed to be still, but now I see that God is asking me not just to be quiet when I pray, but to live in stillness. To have peace and tranquility – to be still always, especially in moments when I have more time to sit and reflect.             

RCIA Class of 2020

Yesterday, I attended an extraordinary service where my RCIA students received their sacraments.  This year was quite a challenging one- I was only able to help at the beginning of formation because my new job was so demanding.  Even, with only a couple months invested in the formation of this year’s sacrament graduating class- I still have such a deep love for the program.  Yesterday, as I arranged the newly initiated Catholics for a class photo- they were like, “I thought I recognized you.” To which I responded, “I wouldn’t have missed your special day for the world.” 

Our team leader did- like always such an impressive job!  I mean to inspire and keep a group going during quarantine was a huge struggle and she did it.  I remember her sending us a message on Easter Vigil and how much all of us lamented not being able to celebrate one of our favorite nights of the year.  While this year’s celebration took place within a daily Eucharistic celebration and though the students, godparents and families had to be outside in the hot sun separated by six feet – while wearing uncomfortable facemasks they joy of the new Catholics was equally shinning.  The service though simple was beautiful and I am sure equally memorable to all those present.

In terms of spiritual motivation- it’s moments like this that inspire me to continue serving.  After the budget cuts at my school, I was given the 8AM-4PM shift so I think that I will hopefully be able to serve next year as an RCIA catechist.  I have noticed that involvement in faith is crucial and these past few months unable to do so (first because of my job and then due to quarantine) have been a challenging time.  Yesterday, though my attendance was simply one of moral support (I didn’t have any duties) I realized how much I miss my team and my ministry. So, am looking forward to this new RCIA year!    

Hug the Cactus

I love hugs.  It hasn’t always been the case.  When I was a freshman in high school, I was assigned a mentor and every time the two of us would meet she would embrace me in a tight hug.  I know that she felt me cringe underneath her arms, yet she continued to leave me with a warm hug.  As time passed and affection towards her started to form, her hugs seemed like a healing balm. One day after a couple years of knowing her, I told her that she taught me to like hugs.  She surprised me when she answered, “I knew signs of outward affection made you uncomfortable, I also knew that you hadn’t been taught to hug. Now you know how and you can teach others, starting with your family.”  I left her car that day, and thought about learning to hug.  Is that for real?  Does one learn to hug, it doesn’t just naturally happen?   

My family at the time was in crisis due to alcoholism and poverty – meeting the basic needs was the priority and signs of affection were probably not even on the radar.  Yet, I had been given a mission and I started to hug, first my mom who has always been my dearest.  As I gained confidence I started doing so with my siblings and eventually my dad.  My mentor helped me tap into a world that we had dismissed due to the hardships in everyday life.  Those early hugs began to chip away at the tough skin our life had made.  It was awkward to hug people I knew so well because it wasn’t our norm, but slowly we became huggers.  While we might still be working on giving really tight embraces, we are a family that hugs!

Recently, I was listening to priest talk about the division in our country and he said that the best advice he had for times like these was to hug the cactus.  There’s a lot of people like freshman me, who life has given them blows and those blows create pricks in our skin that makes us difficult to love.  I know from my own experiences with that strange white woman who loved to hug me.  She saw beneath all my defenses a kid in need of love and not words of affection, but the actions of a warm embrace.  She felt my pricks when she hugged me, but persevered knowing that love overcomes hate.  She was the first person I confided in about why I didn’t trust people to touch me and through her example showed me that good people exist. People who do things like help a barrio kid learn to hug without expecting anything in return.  She embraced me when I was a cactus and now at every chance, I play it forward giving affection especially to the cacti that God places in my walk. Heal the world embrace the cactus!