Preparing For Easter
Scriptural Reflections for the Season of
Lent from the Jesuit Refugee Service
INTRODUCTION
We in JRS have, as St Paul says, a variety of gifts. But also with St Paul, we
can acknowledge that they are gifts of the one Spirit, and are used for the
benefit of the whole body.
This book tells us that there are also gifts we in JRS share in common, and that
is the ability to reflect on our lives in the light of the Scriptures. Whether we are
refugees, or one of those who work for refugees in various ministries, this book
lets us see that a deep spirit of reflection is at the heart of what we do.
This is a book by and for JRS workers and our companions, each reflection
coming from JRS workers and refugees throughout the world. Many thanks are
extended to the regional directors who organised writers in their regions, and of
course to all those who contributed their reflections. It is especially true to say
that it would not have been possible without your help!
It is a workbook – that is, it is a book to be used, not just read! Ideally, it is to
be used each day of Lent as part of our prayerful preparation for Easter. It can
be used by JRS teams for daily sharing and reflection, or can be used
individually at the start or the end of the day. How it is used is up to each one of
us. Whether we reflect for five minutes or for one hour each day, every one of
these scripture passages and the reflection which accompanies it has, we
believe, something profound to teach us about our ministry with and for
refugees.
This year the book is being circulated among JRS workers and our companions
only, and comments, particularly constructive criticism, will be most welcomed,
especially comments as to the suitability of the book being made available more
widely next year. For example, what would need changed, modified, edited,
etc., in order for that to be necessary.
Time constraints mean that this book is only being made available in English
this year, and sincere apologies are given for that. Any future editions will be in
other languages also.
All scripture passages are taken form the New Revised Standard Version, and
all illustrations are by Sujinda Khantayalongkoch, JRS artist and long-time
friend of JRS Asia/Pacific.
Please use and enjoy the book, and please direct any comments on it,
corrections, etc., to the JRS UK or JRS Malta offices.
Have a very prayerful and Holy Lenten Season.
The JRS Europe Theological Reflection Team
Lent 1999
PREPARATION DAYS OF LENT
Preparation Days of Lent
Ash Wednesday
2 Corinthians 5:20; 6:1-2: We are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his
appeal through us; we entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. As we
work together with him, we urge you also not to accept the grace of God in vain. For
he says, "At an acceptable time I have listened to you, and on a day of salvation I
have helped you." See, now is the acceptable time; see, now is the day of salvation!
As we enter the “acceptable time” of Lent, are we being asked to keep good
Lenten resolutions with great effort? Or are we being challenged to work a deep
conversion of our minds and hearts, challenged to let ourselves be reconciled
by and with God? Surely we must decide, on this first day of Lent and step by
step for the next forty days ahead, how we will spend our days so as to not
“neglect the grace of God”? This might well be achieved first and foremost by
listening to and implementing God’s word.
The Lord’s word... Is it not the same message as the one so insistently
addressed to God’s people in Isaiah’s time (58: 6-7)?
Is not this the sort of fast that pleases me? - it is the Lord who speaks:
to break the unjust fetters,
...working for the release of rejected asylum seekers unfairly detained in closed
centres;
to let the oppressed go free,
...speaking up for the hundreds of thousands of forcibly displaced people, and
helping them to find safety;
to share your bread with the hungry,
...ensuring that urban refugees, your own neighbours, are not left without food
tonight;
to shelter the homeless poor,
...welcoming those who cross your country borders, on the look-out for true
protection and a roof?
Is not this the sort of fast that pleases me?
It is the Lord who speaks”.
Eddy Jadot SJ
Regional Director, JRS Europe
1
Preparation Days of Lent
Thursday After Ash Wednesday
Ezra 9:8-9 But now for a brief moment favour has been shown by the Lord our God,
who has left us a remnant, and given us a stake in his holy place, in order that he
may brighten our eyes and grant us a little sustenance in our slavery. For we are
slaves; yet our God has not forsaken us in our slavery, but has extended to us his
steadfast love
The experience of being a refugee is a mystery to me. I don’t know what it
means to experience violence; to lose everything - home, land, children,
parents, wives and husbands; to take refuge in a country where you have few,
if any, rights. And maybe because I don’t know, I also don’t know what gives
refugees the courage to live, to go on despite everything. The answers are
probably many, but I believe that one reason is the hope of returning home.
This seems to be one of the last hopes to die.
And home they return, if they can, when they can. In 1998, Liberians returned
home, many Rwandans returned home, Angolans started to return home, the
people of La Felicidad, a small farming village in Colombia which had been
bombed by the military, returned to their village after months of exile. They
returned home like the Jews who returned to Jerusalem in 538 BC, after 50
years of exile.
But the experience of return is almost always an experience of pain as well as
joy, of suffering as well as comfort, of hopes and disappointments, of death and
resurrection - a “small respite” in their state of slavery.
Angolans have found that war in their country is not over. The people of Liberia
have found their country destroyed and much instability. The people of
Felicidad found their village bombed, their animals gone, their small shacks
destroyed. There was nothing there for them. And yet they chose to return, and
as one woman said to me, even though their village has been a place of much
suffering, they will not change its name, ‘Felicidad’ which means happiness.
The name seems to make a mockery of their suffering, of their pain, of the
destruction all around. But for them it is perhaps a signpost, a goal they want to
reach, a hope to be fulfilled, the life which God has given them. They want to
rebuild.
Is theirs a deep faith that the God of life has not abandoned them? That just as
he showed his favour to the people who went back to Jerusalem to rebuild their
temple, so too they will have a chance to rebuild their home. It is a mystery.
Are hope and faith at the root of any return? The belief that the resurrection will
follow death: is this how we can begin to understand the mystery of the
stubborn hope and immense strength of refugees?
Jenny Cafiso
Programmes Officer, JRS International
2
Preparation Days of Lent
Friday After Ash Wednesday
Matthew 18:23-35 The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished
to settle accounts with his slaves. When he began the reckoning, one who owed him
ten thousand talents was brought to him; and, as he could not pay, his lord ordered
him to be sold, together with his wife and children and all his possessions, and
payment to be made. So the slave fell on his knees before him, saying, 'Have patience
with me, and I will pay you everything.' And out of pity for him, the lord of that slave
released him and forgave him the debt. But that same slave, as he went out, came
upon one of his fellow slaves who owed him a hundred denarii; and seizing him by
the throat, he said, 'Pay what you owe.' …When his fellow slaves saw what had
happened, they were greatly distressed, and they went and reported to their lord all
that had taken place. Then his lord summoned him and said to him, 'You wicked
slave! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. Should you not have
had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?' And in anger his lord
handed him over to be tortured until he would pay his entire debt. So my heavenly
Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister
from your heart."
The Gospel's power addresses our lives on many levels. From a visit to Rwanda in
1998 I came to realise that it is not hard to see the consequences of not forgiving
our debtor or neighbour. The recent history of Rwanda shows the hell that breaks
out with seeking revenge, seeking to exact our debt. The master handing over the
unforgiving debtor to the torturers seems to be a good description of what happens
if the cycle of violence is not broken.
Many of the countries in Sub-Saharan Africa are debtor nations. Debt increases
misery. But just as culpable in debt as these nations are the Northern industrialised
nations, who show such disregard of their economically poorer brothers and sisters
from Sudan to Uganda to Rwanda and beyond. From those who are given much,
much will be required. The Jubilee Year 2000 invites us all to find ways to relieve
these debts.
In the end, however, one of the most effective things I can do to forgive debts is to
address my own behaviour. I feel blessed in working for JRS because of the sense
of purpose it engenders, but then I remember how often I complain about the
difficulties of the work and, more still, the demands of refugees. I can see several
people before me asking for my assistance and I am getting angry - angry in my
frustration, angry at the poor, blaming them for the situation that others have put
them in.
The opposite of keeping others in debt is drawing them into 'community'. Some
Sudanese, in gratitude to me for some help and as a mark of respect used to say,
'you are my father' or 'you are my uncle'. After getting to know a Sudanese widow
rather better than some others, she began to say to me, ‘you are my brother’. Then
I began to feel there was no debt between us.
Stephen Power SJ
Regional Director, JRS Eastern Africa
3
Preparation Days of Lent
Saturday after Ash Wednesday
Mark 4:30-32 "With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will
we use for it? It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the
smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the
greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can
make nests in its shade."
It is hard at times not to be overwhelmed—what we do is so little in the face of
such need, such suffering. I long to make the great gesture, to do the great
deed, to somehow comfort the suffering, to shelter the displaced, to gather in
the orphans of Gran Lacs or Sarajevo, or where ever God’s children have
become refugees, and to be a mother to them all.
Yet for the moment my place is to serve in an office, offering support to those
who do serve in the field by trying to do little things well. My seeds are
information shared with those who need it, doctor’s appointments made for
those home on leave, words of encouragement for those who are disheartened
and tired—little seeds planted with love.
For the moment I can go to these refugees who haunt me so only in prayer and
through the “little way” of serving. My comfort is God’s promise that even my
little seeds, planted for His greater glory, can grow into a tree with branches
broad enough to offer refuge to all of the “little birds” of this earth. And when
their voices are all raised together, truly I believe we shall know the Kingdom of
God.
Marcia Timmel
Projects Co-ordinator, JRS USA
4
FIRST WEEK OF LENT
First Week of Lent
Sunday
Psalm 42:5 Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within
me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help.
We were living as a happily married couple, in Grozny, the Capital of Chechnia,
where both my husband and I had good jobs. But it all came to an end in 1994
when war broke out in Chechnia.
From the very first day my husband fought for the freedom of our country and I
helped in giving medical care and in sheltering people in danger.
In April 1996 I gave birth to a boy. When Grozny was shelled for the Second
time, our home was destroyed. For two long weeks I hid myself in a cellar with
my baby. Once water and food were exhausted, with my hope only in God, I
got out of the city with the child, while the bomber planes were flying over our
heads. It was just a miracle we were able to reach the town where my mother
was living in the Dagestan Republic.
When the war ‘ended’, my husband took us back to Chechnia, but as far as we
were concerned, the war was still going on. Chechens who were supporting the
Russians, sought to take revenge for the deaths of their parents and friends
during the war. One day, my husband did not come back from his work, and
one month later he was declared “disappeared”. Again I brought my son to my
mother, and I returned to Chechnia in order to look for my husband.
One night four armed men broke into my house. They told me they had already
killed my husband and that it was now my boy’s turn. As they did not find him,
the beat me and promised to come back. As I was pregnant, I was afraid my
new child, as well as his older brother, would have to suffer for their father, and I
decided to leave the country and search for a safe place for my sons, although I
was unable to confirm my husband’s death.
My second son was born in Spain. It is in this country I hope to bring up my
children far from war and hatred. But I do not lose hope that we all might be
reunited with their father one day.
The writer, now a refugee in Spain, wishes to remain anonymous and works as an
associate of JRS in Barcelona.
5
First Week of Lent
Monday
Ephesians 2:19 So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are citizens
with the saints and also members of the household of God.
A Sunday in East Berlin in the period after the fall of the Berlin Wall: we have
come together from the former East and from the former West Berlin and are
now all sitting in one church, German and Vietnamese, citizens and illegal
immigrants, together.
Some Vietnamese came to West Berlin as boat people at the time when the
wall was still dividing the city, and these are now well integrated with
permanent-residence papers or even German citizenship. But other
Vietnamese, coming from the east of the city and the area of the former East
Germany roundabout are here with no legal status. They may be rejected
asylum-seekers or even ‘illegals’ in that they possess no valid documents at all.
These are not allowed to be in Germany, they have no legal right to be here.
Nevertheless, all of us were now sitting united in the church and listening to the
reading from the letter of St. Paul to the Ephesians, chapter 2,11-20, which was
proclaimed in both languages, German and Vietnamese. I was struck above all
by the words: “In Christ, you that used to be so far apart from us have been
brought very close, by the blood of Christ. For he is the peace between us, has
made the two into one and broken down the barrier (the wall!) which used to
keep them apart…He came to bring the good news of peace, peace to you who
were far away and peace to those who were near at hand.” The reader then
looked at the faces of the Vietnamese sitting in front of him and continued in a
firm, clear voice: “Therefore you are no longer strangers without the right of
citizenship, instead you are friends of the saints and members of the house of
God.”
When the reading was ended I thought to myself: Yes, today the word of God
you have just heard has been fulfilled! Today it has become a reality for all
those who have gathered for this service in the house of God. Maybe the world
will not acknowledge and accept this, with all its legal distinctions and
categorisations. But for us, for the Church, it is true: There are no foreigners in
the Church, in whom people of every tribe and every tongue are united in the
Lord. “The Kingdom of God is at hand”: for all those who are called to come, to
see and to believe, these words are already true. I felt a great joy and peace in
my heart and this joy was shared amongst all of us who were present as we
reached out our hands to each other to pray the Our Father.
Stefan Taeubner SJ
JRS Germany
6
First Week of Lent
Tuesday
Luke 1:36-37 And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a
son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. For nothing will
be impossible with God.
This scripture brings to mind for me some of the lessons I learned while working
at the Elizabeth Detention Centre, a 300 bed jail next to Newark International
Airport, in the United States. The average stay there is about three months, but
those who lose their cases and try to appeal or seek Torture Convention relief
can spend a year or two in detention.
One such detainee was Ali, a Yemeni dissident, who tried to kill himself when
he lost his asylum case and inadvertently waived his right to appeal after three
months in detention. Although he survived the suicide attempt, mentally he had
lost all hope. He had no friends or family in the United States to raise his spirits,
and was isolated from guards and other detainees because he didn’t speak
English.
When I took Ali’s case, I was optimistic that I could obtain his release through
either a motion to reopen or the UN Torture Convention. However, the months
dragged by, and nothing worked. First, our motion to reopen was denied.
Then, after making a Torture Convention request, we learned that to date the
U.S. government had not made a single decision in any Torture Convention
case, even those that had been pending for over a year. By Christmas, as Ali
finished his ninth month in detention, I was beginning to lose hope as well. It
was increasingly hard for me to be encouraging to my client and be honest at
the same time. I had gotten to know Ali very well at this point, and it was so sad
for me to see him sink deeper and deeper into desperation and depression. He
seemed a totally different person from the polite, upbeat young man I had met
earlier. As nine months in detention stretched into twelve, he began to talk
about suicide again.
After thirteen months in detention, the Immigration Department (INS) suddenly
decided to grant Ali relief from deportation under the UN Torture Convention.
His case was the first case ever granted in the United States.
Today, eight months later, Ali’s life has begun to turn around. He has learned
English, has a good job, and has a nice Yemeni-American girlfriend who helps
him navigate life in New York City. Recently he cooked dinner for my boyfriend
and I in the restaurant where he works. When I see him walking around freely,
wearing civilian clothes, it reminds me that with God, anything is possible, even
when situations seem really hopeless. (Ali’s name and identifying details have
been changed to protect his privacy.)
Mary McLenahan
JRS USA
7
First Week of Lent
Wednesday
Matthew 7:24-27 … who hears these words of mine and does them will be like the wise
builders who built their house upon the rock; and the rain fell, and the floods came,
and the winds blew and beat upon that house, but it did not fall, because it had been
founded on the rock. [Those] who hears these words of mine and does not do them
will be like others who built their house upon the sand; and the rain fell, and the
floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell; and what a
fall it had.
Refugees do not normally have a secure house. Their houses are built with
fragile materials, upon sandy ground. The wind and the rain is a threat to them.
I remember how in April 1996 the strong rains in Kakuma Camp, in northern
Kenya, blew down many houses, and how the river floods demolished an entire
zone of the camp. The picture of Ali, from Somalia, shouting at the agencies to
get a piece of blue plastic sheet remains in my mind. This plastic prevented the
rain from falling into his house, which was made of mud and sticks with a dried
palm-leaf roof. With just a piece of plastic, this family could live with a certain
dignity.
Halima, her sister, is a beautiful mother of two children, a strong woman who
fled Somalia with her husband, and then from her husband who shot her in her
right foot. She always kept her house clean and welcoming, carefully washing
the metal door made out of used oil tins with the distinctive blue logo of ECHO,
the EC Humanitarian Office, on them. I always admired the ceremonial way with
which she used to receive her guests: hot sweet tea always ready, and a broad
resilient smile full of warmth. Halima: a refined house keeper of a provisional
and fragile house.
This heart is indeed a heart full of hope. One of the thoughts after my short
experience in this camp was that refugee’s lives - as well as their houses -
might sometimes be like the house that falls with the wind. This is an image of
the fragility of their situation. But the heart of many refugees still remains
hopeful for a return to their land. This hope is like the rock of the house Jesus
tells us about in his parable. Nothing: despair, loneliness, fear, nor violence in
their countries is stronger than their dreams about return. This dream is what
maintains the solid house of their hearts stable. Sometimes, this image of the
plastic sheeting comes into my mind when I stupidly think about my own needs.
Amaya Valcárcel Silvela
Policy Affairs Officer, JRS International
8
First Week of Lent
Thursday
Isaiah 2:4 He shall judge between the nations, and shall arbitrate for many peoples;
they shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.
We fled from my country Burundi, where we had been living in utter injustice
and violence, in June 1995, and went to Zaire. Shortly before this my mother
had died in a car accident, and two months later my father died of malaria,
leaving his 13 children as orphans. Far from finding the peace and justice we
longed for in Zaire we found that refugees were subjected to intimidation by the
Zairean police and army who stole property and raped women at gun-point. We
prayed to God to assist us.
On October 23rd 1996 trouble started in the Eastern region of Zaire where we
were staying. We heard heavy gunfire in the mountains and realised that war
was breaking our between Zaire and Burundi. We prayed that we might be
protected and that the war might be stopped. On the 25th Burundi withdrew and
the gunfire ceased, and we praised God.
We moved to another region but government soldiers and rebels were fighting
one another and many people were dying. We too were shot at by the rebels
and again had to flee. Some of the soldiers and rebels had had enough of
fighting. They threw their guns in the lake and joined us a refugees.
At other times both soldiers and rebels would approach to steal our belongings
and to try to force the men to fight alongside them. Many of those who refused
were killed. Then we met up with some seminarians also fleeing the pressure to
take up arms. These seminarians helped us to continue praying in hope for
peace. By this time all the refugees were praying together in all their many
languages:
O Lord, we pray that all swords may be hammered into ploughs
We pray that nation will not lift sword against nation.
Let there be no more training for war.
Let us walk in your light O Lord.
Amen.
Anonymous
A Refugee from Burundi with JRS in Malawi
9
First Week of Lent
Friday
Leviticus 26:11-13 I will place my dwelling in your midst, and I shall not abhor you.
And I will walk among you, and will be your God, and you shall be my people. I am
the Lord your God who brought you out of the land of Egypt, to be their slaves no
more; I have broken the bars of your yoke and made you walk erect.
One day, those of us who were in Meheba Camp in Zambia were informed that
at least eighteen hundred refugees would be arriving within a week. They were
coming from Mwinilunga Camp which was being closed for security reasons.
Our immediate concern, of course, was for shelter for the new arrivals, as the
rainy season was due to start. Barely a week later the people, mainly
Rwandese and Burundi’s, started to come into the camp. Unfortunately, the
rains started the very day they arrived, and the only place available for them
was an uncleared forest area. When we got there the situation was pathetic.
There was only one common shelter and the rain was torrential. My greatest
fear was for the children whom I felt would suffer the most.
I was disturbed and could not understand how God could permit such a
situation to prevail amongst God’s people. And yet it seemed that even this was
better than what they had come from. As I moved among them trying to gather
more information, I understood that at least here they had some hope of being
able to settle down after the long journey they had made, that they hoped to be
able to obtain refugee status cards which would allow them to look for
employment.
Where is God’s dwelling among all this?
These people are tired of war, of travelling, of being homeless, of waiting for
peace. Some have lost hope. It is difficult to console, to try to instil hope among
those that have been betrayed for so long.
We wait, longing for that time when the Son of Justice and the Prince of Peace,
who has made his dwelling among the refugees, will bring them justice and
peace.
Debritto Gona nSJ
JRS Zambia
10
First Week of Lent
Saturday
Psalm 137:1-4 By the rivers of Babylon - there we sat down and there we wept when
we remembered Zion. On the willows there we hung up our harps. For there our
captors asked us for songs, and our tormentors asked for mirth, saying, "Sing us one
of the songs of Zion!" How could we sing the Lord's song in a foreign land?
The village of San Jose el Tesoro lies in the hills of Alta Verapaz, Guatemala. It
is home to a community of displaced Guatemalans, driven from their towns and
farms during years of violence. Each family of San Jose tells its own story of
loss, fear and desolation, but all have a common dream and an unfailing hope
that shines brightly amid the poverty and hardship that they continue to live
with. That hope is expressed through music and song. Almost every day there
is music in San Jose, celebrating the birth of a baby, the harvest of the life-
giving maize, or the arrival of unexpected guests.
Don Pablito is a catechist, community leader, farmer and father of eleven
children, of whom six have died. While in a refugee camp in Honduras, Pablito
wrote songs recording his own escape from death and the murder of his
brother, father and children. His songs are honest and powerful . He sings them
with a strong and proud voice. Above all they are songs of hope, love and
praise, a testimony to the strength of his people. They are the songs of a man
who has every reason to question the love of God, but hearing him sing, one
knows that his faith in the Lord has never faltered.
May Pablito’s songs and those of the marginalised and the voiceless be heard
again and again and have the power to change lives. May their music break
barriers and reach hearts, and bring joy and peace.
Gill Donoghue
Administration, JRS International
11
SECOND WEEK OF LENT
Second Week of Lent
Sunday
Galatians 3:28 There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there
is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.
(October 1998, 22.00 hrs. A Police road block between Jajce and Banja Luka,
Republika Srpska, Bosnia.)
The policeman: “Jesi li ti Srbin?” (Are you Serbian?)
I answer:” Ich weiß nicht, was Sie wollen, ich bin Deutscher!”
Again: “Jesi li ti Srbin?”
My answer again consists of a rush of German words, as I show my red
passport to prove that I am not Serbian and to signal that I am not going to bribe
my way out of the situation. Other ethnic groups would have to do so.
It is bitter to be forced to play a part in the game which artificially separates the
ethnic populations of this country. “There are no Serbs, no Jews, no Croats, no
Bosnian Muslims...” How far away, how unrealistic seems this truth at a police
checkpoint in Bosnia.
One month later I cross the ”Inter-Entity-Boundary-Line” into Pale to visit a mine
victim. My interpreter is a Croat, who never before dared to cross into Serbian
territory. It is clear that he feels uneasy to be in the enemies territory for the first
time since the war ended. I have never met a Muslim who dared to come with
me. As a Croat he is a little less afraid. We meet people who are refugees from
Sarajevo. He talks with them about business, their life, their situation during the
war. They were soldiers. He asks so many questions, desperately trying to find
out about friends he had before the war. He visibly relaxes the longer the we
are there and as we go home he says very spontaneously: “Well, they are just
ordinary people! You forget that when you are separated for years.”
These two sentences tell me again, why we are here. The experiences of hearts
coming together are much more striking than all political and official struggles.
Sometimes we are not just puppets in a cynical game, but tools of God´s desire
to lead the people together. It is a gift to witness enemies coming together, and
leaving the old boundaries behind.
Heiner Sternemann SJ
JRS Croatia & Bosnia
13
Second Week of Lent
Monday
Matthew 5:3-12: Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for
they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy. Blessed
are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will
be called children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness'
sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people revile you and
persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice
and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted
the prophets who were before you.
What is rich about the Beatitudes is their promise of hope: hope for a
deliverance from poverty and injustice. The repetition in them urges us to
remember the guarantee that Jesus gave to his people, so that we can continue
when we are surrounded by despair.
The message of the Beatitudes is just as useful for those of us who work to
relieve the suffering of refugee populations as it is for the displaced themselves.
For every success we have there will be many failures. People will come for
help yet you are unable to give it. You make it your goal to relieve their suffering
yet the sick still die and the acts of cruelty that make their lives a misery persist
unabated. A refugee problem can become so complex that it is hard to
remember what is right and wrong. The simplicity of the Beatitudes is needed at
such times. In the Beatitudes it is the poor, the hungry and the persecuted who
are told that the ‘kingdom of heaven is theirs’ and so we are reminded that to
have faith is to believe in justice.
Dedicating oneself to helping others requires an open heart but also enough
pragmatism to realise that we can only do what we can. When things are
beyond our control we do well to remember that matters will eventually fall into
other, more capable hands.
Jon Greenaway
Information and Research Officer, JRS Asia Pacific
14
Second Week of Lent
Tuesday
Deuteronomy 10:17-19 For the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the
great God, mighty and awesome, who is not partial and takes no bribe, who executes
justice for the orphan and the widow, and who loves the strangers, providing them
food and clothing. You shall also love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land
of Egypt.
In my ministry with migrant workers, refugees and displaced people I find that
one of the commonest and hardest experiences they have to face is the sense
of being uprooted or dislocated from their homes, families, land and life. The
external dislocation brings about a deeper and intense psychological
dislocation. The feeling of being uprooted accompanied by the insecurity and
uncertainty, the vulnerability, the complete dependence on another, and
sometimes even being at the mercy of another - this causes much suffering in
the heart of a refugee, migrant worker or displaced person.
I empathise with them yet I do not understand how one can live amidst such
suffering and pain. However, within this experience of being dislocated there
comes, so often, the sense of hope amidst despair. And this is amazing. The
courage to hope, which they continue to radiate and live by, is unbelievable. Do
I have such courage? I wonder. What one can do is offer a listening presence,
while doing what is possible to address the complexity of the matter.
I have often reflected and questioned about this. The word ‘Catholic’ as in
Catholic Church means ‘universal’. It carries with it a sense of embracing
everyone irrespective of nationality or culture or even creed. It is a sense of
throwing open the doors and welcoming all peoples into a home. If the Church
that carries this name cannot offer hospitality, cannot welcome and embrace a
stranger, then we have lost the essence of the hospitality God offered to the
people of Israel, leading them out of Egypt. And we have lost the hospitality that
Jesus offered to the apostles when he broke the bread and washed their feet at
the Last Supper . This was Christ’s farewell gift to them, and to each one of us -
infinite hospitality amidst the hostility of sinners. With confidence we can say,
‘Yes, we were once strangers…!’ Not anymore.
Thus, the least that one can do is to offer this universal hospitality to a stranger
- a refugee, a migrant worker, displaced and uprooted person.
Br Bernard Hyacinth SJ
JRS Asia/Pacific, Malaysia
15
Second Week of Lent
Wednesday
1 Kings 19:11-12 God said to Elijah, “Go out and stand on the mountain before the
Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by”. Now there was a great wind, so strong that it
was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord
was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the
earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and
after the fire a sound of sheer silence. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in
his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave.
A Testimony from Munanira II
In August 1997, I found myself submerged in the beauty of Munanira. The clinic
is a simple structure built among the hills. We care for a population of 34,000
which has been left to fend for themselves. They are afraid and hungry. You
can sense their hopelessness in the expression of their eyes. These people are
farmers but have been forced to abandon their homes and their land to seek
refuge in the forests. Munanira is particularly exposed to fighting and there is
always a strong military presence.
The clinic at Munanira had been shut and abandoned for a year. It took us
about a month to clean it up and get it back into shape. When the sick began to
arrive we received as many as 300 or 350 people a day, many in deplorable
conditions and some after walking 20km.
We did what we could. We started working with open hearts, in hope of peace,
and I think that all those who came to the clinic sensed this. In the course of one
year we cared for nearly 3500 sick people each month, not to mention the
vaccinations, pre-natal check ups etc. Little by little things have got better, and
some illnesses are under control, but others, such as malaria and malnutrition
are as strong as ever.
My thoughts go back to this reading from 1 Kings, and when we are called to
collaborate in projects such as the clinic in Munanira it brings out the best in us
and we give a lot. Now as I leave Munanira I take with me the joys and pains
which I have experienced and shared. So I cannot say that it is all over. I will
always carry in my heart this gift from God, which has allowed me to share the
life of so many African brothers and sisters. They have helped me to find God,
to discover God’s presence here and now.
Sr Matilde Martiner
JRS Grands Lacs
16
Second Week of Lent
Thursday
Lamentations 3:48-51 My eyes flow with rivers of tears because of the destruction of
my people. My eyes will flow without ceasing, without respite, until the Lord from
heaven looks down and sees. My eyes cause me grief at the fate of all the young
women in my city.
May 1996 - I was in the compound of Daw Aung San Suu Kyi in University
Avenue, Rangoon. I was there just to observe how she was and what she
would say to the world media. Despite the hardship she had endured for the
cause of democracy in Burma, she still smiled. After the news briefing, she
served tea to the journalists and she said with a sense of humour and irony,
quoting a classic American film," I'll give you tea and I hope you'll give me
sympathy."
May 1998 - I have been in exile in Thailand working for Burmese refugees.
Many of them are women. They fled from the killing fields in the jungles near the
Thai-Burma border where fighting between the Burmese military and opposition
groups is common. Their villages have been shelled and torched or relocated.
Their farms have been looted or laid with landmines. Their husbands and
relatives have been put into forced labour or porterage by the Burmese troops
or organised and recruited by the opposition groups. They have also
experienced inhuman treatment by the Burmese soldiers. Finally they deserted
their villages and farms to seek refuge in Thailand. All they can bring with them
are their personal belongings bundled on their backs and their children in their
arms.
As refugee camps along the border are frequently attacked and admission is
difficult, they risk going further inside Thailand. Some of them end up in the
Immigration Detention Centre because they are undocumented. Those who
reach Bangkok appeal to UNHCR for protection. They are homeless and
helpless. Their future is still not clear.
I think this Burmese lady who is well known for her selfless sacrifices for the
people and these women refugees have one thing in common: hope for their
homeland.
Ko Ko Thett
Project Assistant, Burma Programme JRS Asia/Pacific
17
Second Week of Lent
Friday
Revelation 21:1-6 Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and
the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, the
new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned
for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "See, the home of
God is among mortals. He will dwell with them; they will be his peoples, and God
himself will be with them; he will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no
more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed
away." And the one who was seated on the throne said, "See, I am making all things
new." Also he said, "Write this, for these words are trustworthy and true." Then he
said to me, "It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To
the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life.
When? When all the people are dead?
Inside Liberia, people are being slaughtered daily like animals. Others are
deprived of everything they need to stay alive, including food. In many parts of
the country there is no hospital because all the nurses and doctors are being
frightened away. Whole villages are being burnt causing people flee into the
bush, while others find their way into neighbouring countries. So many women,
from little seven year old girls to women who are nine months pregnant and
even eighty year-old grandmothers are being raped by armed men.
Sometimes I really wonder "What is God doing about the evil that has taken
over the land? Has the devil over-powered God? but then I hear God’s voice
telling me "But I created you. I gave you your head, your heart and your hands
to do so many good things. Why haven't you played your part? Why have you
allowed the children of the devil to take over? If all of you who call yourselves
Christians were to play your part, to live according to the Gospel, then you
would have a new earth and a new heaven.
If you love one another, tell no lies and cheat no one, if you appreciate what you
have and envy no one, there will be no more crying, no more bloodshed, no
more pain, no more sickness, no more hunger and no more senseless dying.
"Behold I make all things new."
Franklin Siakor
JRS West Africa
18
Second Week of Lent
Saturday
Mark 6:36-37 When it grew late, his disciples came to him and said, "This is a
deserted place, and the hour is now very late; send them away so that they may go
into the surrounding country and villages and buy something for themselves to eat."
But he answered them, "You give them something to eat."
"It's your turn to do the miracle of the fish and the bread." Riccardo, one
conscientious objectors who works in the kitchen at Centro Astalli, slams down
the tray full of the egg omelette 'surprise' and hands me the pincers. Mushkida !
(Hurry up!), laughs Imat.
I started volunteering at Centro Astalli over the summer. On average 250 meals
are served every night, where the majority of those who come to Centro Astalli
are Kurdish immigrants, young men and families who have made their way to
Italy in the hope of a better future, but there are also Ghanaians, Ethiopians,
Algerians....
As I arrive I see those queuing outside waiting for their meal tickets, walking
down to the kitchen I pass by those waiting for the showers, then I make my
way along the narrow corridor where the tables are set out and people are
sitting around chatting, arguing, laughing, sleeping, kids are running around in
circles, driving their mothers crazy. Through the double doors, there is another
queue, for the doctor. I drop my stuff off and then put my apron on and go to the
kitchen. You can hardly see through the steam. There are volunteers in their
shirt sleeves, up to their elbows in water cleaning the lettuce, others are busy
chopping and slicing, Jerry is stirring one of the enormous cauldrons. "Here
make yourself useful and taste a potato".
With so many people and so much going on, the analogy of the miracle of the
feeding of the thousands may seem a little obvious. But what amazes me every
time I go to Centro Astalli is not that they manage to give everyone a hot meal
but rather how it is in giving that we receive and that in receiving that we give.
Humanly, I have come to understand that I receive a lot more than I give at
Centro Astalli. To share part of my life with others but more importantly to feel
that they wish to share their stories with me, is overwhelming. Simply to
accompany is a privilege. And somehow this experience enables me to
understand the Gospel and the way in which God, in exchange for so little,
manifests his absolute selfless love to us all.
Susana Barnes
Research Assistant, JRS International
19
THIRD WEEK OF LENT
Third Week of Lent
Sunday
Deuteronomy 24:19-21 When you reap your harvest in your field and forget a sheaf in
the field, you shall not go back to get it; it shall be left for the alien, the orphan, and
the widow… When you gather the grapes of your vineyard, do not glean what is left;
it shall be for the alien, the orphan, and the widow.
Immigration Detention Centre (IDC), Suan Phlu, Bangkok, Thailand. What a
special place for strangers, for orphans, for widows! What a special place to
serve!
Thailand does everything possible to promote its economy-booster tourism
programme, encouraging visitors and welcoming those who come to visit. Yet at
the same time authorities seek out the undocumented and illegal among these
visitors. Those found violating immigration laws are detained before they are
deported.
There are about 50 nationalities in the IDC, from Afghans to Zimbabweans.
There is everyone from large and athletic Africans to tiny, malnourished children
of Burma and Cambodia. There are the handicapped and there are the white-
haired old women. We have tourists, business people, beggars and migrant
workers but when they are arrested and taken to IDC they are all illegal aliens.
Every one of them needs assistance in contacting their embassy or their family
and friends to help obtain their release. However for the poorer ones, such as
the Burmese the Laotians and the Cambodians embassies are not of much
help. For them, the IDC is like a guest house where meals and shelter are
provided before they are bussed to the border and forced to return to their
home country on foot.
One wonders why they have to be sent back to their jungles, only to return to
the streets and pavements of Bangkok to toil and beg. Yet God is telling us to
serve the orphans, the widows and the strangers, to give them food, clothing,
and medicine. We are reassured that God knows every one of them as we
ourselves are known. Ours is the beautiful privilege to care for them. Ours is to
learn how fragile and delicate every life is that we encounter. And more than
simply giving the medicine, food and clothing we must grow in love as we ‘tend
the flock’.
Dr Dominica ‘Dee’ Garcia
JRS Asia/Pacific. Bangkok
21
Third Week of Lent
Monday
Matthew 13:54-57 He came to his hometown and began to teach the people in their
synagogue, so that they were astounded and said, "Where did this man get this
wisdom and these deeds of power? Is not this the carpenter's son? Is not his mother
called Mary? And are not his brothers James and Joseph and Simon and Judas? And
are not all his sisters with us? Where then did this man get all this?" And they took
offence at him. But Jesus said to them, "Prophets are not without honour except in
their own country and in their own house."
When the conflict broke out in Burundi, my country, I lived in fear for a long
time. At night, I couldn't get a wink of sleep. At the slightest noise, I would jump
with fright and would run away anywhere, knocking down everything on my
way. I remember spending a full night on my feet, carrying my two children, one
in my arms, one on my back, for fear of being caught in our sleep. The next day
I needed treatment for high blood pressure.
One day I read Jesus' word : "Do not worry about your life... Can any of you, for
all his worrying, add one single cubit to his span of life?" (Mat. 6:25 & 27).
Deeply touched, I unburdened my heart to the Lord. Little by little I regained my
peace and eventually got back to my normal self.
Then another war broke out, this time in the Congo where I had found shelter
with some other Burundians. There was panic everywhere. People were falling
in all sorts of traps, for instance parents who fled, leaving their children behind.
Strengthened by my previous experience, I used to tell people around me:
"Don't give way to fear. Confide in the Lord. Let yourselves be guided by God."
But people would reply: "You could hardly get a wink of sleep and you are the
one to tell us what to do!" - My answer was: "All the more reason for doing so,
since I am no longer gripped by panic..." However much I would bear witness to
my faith in prayer, I was not able to convince them. In this way, after my
previous experience, another one was offered to me, bringing me closer to
Christ: was I not also invited to accept being scarcely listened to "in my own
country and in my own house"...?
Claire Ndayisenga
Now in Belgium
22
Third Week of Lent
Tuesday
Isaiah 53:7-9 He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth;
like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is
silent, so he did not open his mouth. By a perversion of justice he was taken away.
Who could have imagined his future? For he was cut off from the land of the living,
stricken for the transgression of my people. They made his grave with the wicked and
his tomb with the rich, although he had done no violence, and there was no deceit in
his mouth.
I am not one of the hundreds of thousands of displaced persons from Burundi. I
am not the protagonist of this story. I simply had the privilege of being with
them, those who do not have the right to decide about their own lives.
How can one write about their experience? What do I know about fleeing during
the night to no place in order to save my life? What do I know about losing
everything? About having someone stealing my loved ones one after another?
What do I know about fright that disfigures your face until it can no longer be
recognised as that of a human being? About the fear that, after 2,000 years,
continues to crucify innocent beings? What do I know about sweating blood?
I don’t know anything, and they, the protagonists, keep silent: "He was
oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; like a lamb that
is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he
did not open his mouth.."
There are no words to express such a pain. "But some times in the middle of
the night their wounds open again and, suddenly awake, they would touch their
sharp cuts, they would recover their suffering and with it, the face of their love,
full of bruises." (Camus).
When there are no more words we can only remain at their side, listening to
their silence: “Stay here and keep watch with me," knowing that in spite of
everything, life is stronger than death.
Something I once heard from a 13-year-old Rwandan refugee child has struck
me very deeply, and I reflect on it when I reflect on this text of Isaiah: "I, when I
grow up, what I want is to LIVE"..
Carmen Rodriguez
JRS Grands Lacs
23
Third Week of Lent
Wednesday
Exodus 13:18-22 So God led the people by the roundabout way of the wilderness
toward the Red Sea. The Israelites went up out of the land of Egypt prepared for
battle… They set out from Succoth, and camped at Etham, on the edge of the
wilderness. The Lord went in front of them in a pillar of cloud by day, to lead them
along the way, and in a pillar of fire by night, to give them light, so that they might
travel by day and by night. Neither the pillar of cloud by day nor the pillar of fire by
night left its place in front of the people.
Tens of thousands of Sudanese have been on a journey in South West Sudan
over the last months of 1998, fleeing war and famine. Most have fled south in
the hopes of evading military action and finding food. Hundreds more have
made their way to Khartoum, some deposited by lorry into the Catholic church
compound in one of the government designated camps for the internally
displaced some twenty kilometres from the town centre.
With drought and military action plaguing the south of the country, tens of
thousands of people find themselves searching for safety and security. In the
north, more than two million internally displaced are in the districts surrounding
Khartoum alone, and where they find themselves in a very insecure situation.
They are suspect because of the families they belong to, and those fighting the
government forces are treated as second class citizens because of the sharia
law, with many families without proper shelter and adequate nutrition and
medical care.
In such bleak circumstances, the Bishops of Sudan, in their recent pastoral
programme for the coming year, point to the necessity of developing more firmly
the Christian values of faith and hope in the God who saves, whose power is
never blunted by evil, who invites us to believe in and to stand up for our God
given dignity, made as we are in His image. This is the foundation of our efforts
to work in whatever way we can for a true peace with justice in civil society,
based on respect for such dignity.
In all this, the God who led his people to freedom in the promised land, and who
had them return from exile through most unexpected circumstances, is the one
God in whom our faith and hope are founded.
Ed Brady SJ
JRS Eastern Africa, Sudan
24
Third Week of Lent
Thursday
Matthew 7:12 In everything do to others as you would have them do to you; for this is
the law and the prophets.
“It was almost like becoming the wife of the doctor”, explained Emilio, an
indigenous Tzotzil man from Altos de Chiapas, describing how he had learned
to heal. And learn he had. He had gone with the doctor from community to
community, examining patients initially without the slightest idea of what he was
doing. With time and experience he began to recognise symptoms and
illnesses, to understand what is important in the process of a cure.
Now he uses his instinct and his senses as well as his experience in the
treatment of those who come to him. He can prescribe medicines accurately,
once which help and heal, but he knows the limits if medical science. There are
certain wounds which need advice, tears, or caresses rather than medicine in
order to be healed. And there are evils of the heart which cannot be cured in the
presence of loneliness; the healing presence of the community is required.
For Emilio Luna, health promoter in the community of Acteal, the ailments and
wounds of each person whom he treats are like his own wounds and illnesses.
And there are so many wounded souls in this land of massacred and displaced
people, that Emilio’s head is bowed and his eyes fill with tears whenever he
gives an account of his responsibilities. He cares for others as if they were of
his own family. What would happen in this world, I wonder, if we all cared for
others in this way? What would happen if others, so different, so needy, so
forgotten, so distant, were to be treated as my brothers and sisters? For that is
what other people actually are – my brothers and my sisters.
Carlos Morfin ‘Patacho’ SJ
JRS Mexico, Acteal, Chiapas
25
Third Week of Lent
Friday
PSALM 85:1 Lord, you were favourable to your land; you restored the fortunes of
Jacob.
Working in Nimule in Southern Sudan, we have been waiting for signs of God's
graciousness, for the home-coming of the captives.
When I worked in Northern Uganda among the Southern Sudanese refugees,
we were told that the refugees were better off than the nationals. Yet there was
always that gaping chasm - the refugees were not free people. They could not
move up and down as they pleased, choose to live where they pleased, mould
and shape their own destinies. They were captives, at the mercy of the policies
of other people.
After repeated rebel attacks on some of the camps, some of the refugees made
a definite move to return home. Others, in more secure areas, kept their eyes
tentatively on the home scene, waiting for a sign of the graciousness of God.
We began our nursery and primary schools in Southern Sudan and a trickle of
the returning captives flowed in - the Madi community began encouraging their
exiled members to come back.
The Bishop of Torit's mother lay dying in Kampala and the last words of the old
lady was a request to be laid to rest at home. A large cortege accompanied her
body to Loa - a captive come home.
During holiday time, students walk home from Northern Uganda, ever hopeful
for the start of a secondary school in Nimule, so that they can remain in their
homeland. When will they be able to study in their own schools about the
geography and history of their own country?
At the end of 1998, there were vigorous attempts at forced conscription, causing
some young men to go back into exile. At that same time there were two
incidents of bombing by the Khartoum government.
" Lord, we know you are waiting to be favourable to your land; to bring back the
captives of Jacob, for your people still voice their desire to be home. Our hatred
and greed and love of money are still obstacles and yet in the midst of suffering
some are already at home - they have made their home in You."
Veronica Michau
JRS Eastern Africa, Uganda
26
Third Week of Lent
Saturday
Deuteronomy 26:5-11 A wandering Aramean was my ancestor; he went down into
Egypt and lived there as an alien, few in number, and there he became a great nation,
mighty and populous. When the Egyptians treated us harshly and afflicted us, by
imposing hard labour on us, we cried to the Lord, the God of our ancestors; the Lord
heard our voice and saw our affliction, our toil, and our oppression. The Lord
brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with a
terrifying display of power, and with signs and wonders; and he brought us into this
place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. So now I bring the
first of the fruit of the ground that you, O Lord, have given me." You shall set it down
before the Lord your God and bow down before the Lord your God. Then you,
together with the Levites and the aliens who reside among you, shall celebrate with all
the bounty that the Lord your God has given to you and to your house.
This text summarises much of what I have received from reflecting on the bible.
The book of Philippians, for instance, has been an encouragement to me as a
refugee and a single parent of five children in a foreign land. The Lord has done
much for me (Philippians 4:6-8). This scripture passage has taught me how to
wait upon the Lord, never to complain but to pray with patience. Whatever
happens, we should not give up, we refugees; we should keep on asking God,
and through the servants of God, our fellow human beings, we will be blessed.
Already in many ways we are blessed, and God has helped us to cross so
many borders; until now. So we should not forget to thank God.
The bible clearly tells us in Deuteronomy 31:6 that the God will never leave us
or forsake us. God will remain with us through everything. Many of us refugees
worry a lot about where we are going to sleep, what we are going to eat, where
we will be tomorrow, but I would like to open up and tell you that the Lord will
make you strong and help you; God will protect you (Isaiah 41:10). Scripture
also tells us that unlike the birds in the air, we are especially privileged for God
is there and ready to protect us (Matthew 6:25-34). God is nearer to those who
are discouraged and saves those who have lost hope (Psalm 34:18-20). God
preserves us so completely that not even one of our bones shall be broken.
So my fellow refugees, place all your hope and put all your burdens on God,
who fully understands each and every moment of our lives; keep on persevering
for one day we will be given rest. Truly God has ‘heard our voice and sees our
afflictions'.
‘Agatha’
Refugee from Rwanda, in JRS Eastern Africa
27
FOURTH WEEK OF LENT
Fourth Week of Lent
Sunday
Sirach 38:16-17 My child, let your tears fall for the dead, and as one in great pain
begin the lament. Lay out the body with due ceremony, and do not neglect the burial.
Let your weeping be bitter and your wailing fervent; make your mourning worthy of
the departed…
The place: a cemetery of militants in Jafna, Sri Lanka. Boys and girls who
sacrificed their lives for a cause they thought was noble. Most of them were
below 18 years - life snuffed out before it could blossom. We see a mother
wailing over a tomb. Her boy was killed in the latest battle, just 16 years old
and a favourite son. She looks at us and says: “I curse the day I conceived
him. See the tragedy in this country. Flowering plants must have flowers above
and the roots below. That is beauty. But see, in our country, our flowers are
already buried and we, like old roots are dangling in the air. Even when
freedom comes, we shall all walk over the bones of our dear sons and
daughters. What kind of freedom is that?"
The ten years war in Sri Lanka has left twelve thousand young boys and girls
as ‘martyrs’. But to the mothers who bore them, the much touted martyrdom is
eternal agony, the gloom in the dawn and sometimes the unshakeable guilt of
living after their children are dead. At least Our Lady had the consolation of
holding her dead son. Many mothers in the war zones are only told where their
children have been killed and buried. The loss has wounded them for ever.
Christians mark only 40 days of lent. We who buried our sons and
daughters walk an unending Way of the Cross Without the hope of
resurrection. (From ‘A mother weeping over her daughter's grave’ – Anon.)
Chinnappan Amalraj SJ
Regional Director, JRS South Asia
29
Fourth Week of Lent
Monday
Luke 10:25-28 Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. "Teacher," he said, "what
must I do to inherit eternal life?" He said to him, "What is written in the law? What
do you read there?" He answered, "You shall love the Lord your God with all your
heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and
your neighbour as yourself." And he said to him, "You have given the right answer;
do this, and you will live."
Reflecting on this text of scripture, I have come to see that the command to love
our neighbour is also the command to love refugees. The relationship of men
and women to our neighbours, in this case, the refugee, is bound up with our
relationship with God. Our love for refugees cannot be separated from our
concern for justice. Love implies a concrete or absolute demand for justice, i.e.
recognition of the dignity and rights of one's neighbour.
We as JRS staff take the survival and humanity of refugees into very central
consideration when working with them, although it is not always easy to live with
them. If we reflect deeply on their status, we can see that they are poor in the
sense that they left everything they owned and sought shelter in a foreign land
unsure of what the future would hold for them. Love for refugees is associated
with justice extended to strangers. We look upon this and help to fulfil some of
the needs in their lives. JRS assists the refugees as one family. That is,
though refugees' families are separated and some never reunite, those who
come into a host country or region are assisted without distinction of race or
religion. When we look at the rights of refugees we see that they are often
denied the right to work and are subjected to all sorts of harassment. JRS
defends and works for their rights in every way possible.
Working with refugees and displaced people is a privilege and a challenge
which can bring about an inner transformation in our values and attitudes
towards others. All this comes about as a result of loving these people, our
neighbours.
Miriam Wairimu
Kenya Parish Outreach Programme, JRS Eastern Africa
30
Fourth Week of Lent
Tuesday
Matthew 2:16-18 When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, he was
infuriated, and he sent and killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were
two years old or under, according to the time that he had learned from the wise men.
Then was fulfilled what had been spoken through the prophet Jeremiah: "A voice
was heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children;
she refused to be consoled, because they are no more."
Killing the dog to get rid of the fleas
The displaced people whom we have been accompanying in Colombia’s
Magdalena Medio over the last three years are, in many ways, sharing the fate
of the children in and around Bethlehem. Their presence infuriates the local
militia leaders, who feel mocked and threatened by them. It is as if there hangs
over their heads an order to ‘kill all the children two years old or under’.
Their presence in the territory which has been under guerrilla control since the
1970’s is a threat to the paramilitary groups who wish to dispute that control.
These fighters cannot understand that some of the population are not part of the
conflict. To them, everyone, without exception, is a ‘civil combatant’, ready for
war in some capacity or other. With such an understanding, it becomes
necessary to instil fear into the lives of these innocents, to punish them, force
them to flee, burn their houses, destroy their crops. The war mongers seem
convinced that by so doing they are annihilating threats and winning the war.
This is the logic of war, of every war without exception. An enemy is anyone
who is not on my side. Every unknown person is suspicious. In this war, where
no one knows the location of the armies, it seems necessary to kill the dog to
get rid of the fleas.
We witness the weeping and the great moaning of a people uprooted from their
land, ‘refusing to be comforted’ until they are given the chance to return to that
land, to their rivers, their nets, and their hoes.
JRS Magdalena Medio Team
JRS Latin America, Colombia
31
Fourth Week of Lent
Wednesday
Psalm 77:5-9: I consider the days of old, and remember the years of long ago. I
commune with my heart in the night; I meditate and search my spirit: "Will the Lord
spurn forever, and never again be favourable? Has his steadfast love ceased forever?
Are his promises at an end for all time? Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has he in
anger shut up his compassion?”
When you are forced into exile by a foreign army, you can remember the past in
your own land with nostalgia... "the songs in the night". But when it is the army
of your own country which has tortured and massacred people in your village,
even members of your own family, and they have done so by order of your own
government, looking back to the past requires a lot of courage. Without this
courage, however, there is no way forward. Old traumas and fears need to be
exorcised if you are not to carry them within you forever. Your society requires
that the facts are first made public as the first step towards justice.
At the end of 1997 several thousand Guatemalan refugees returned to their own
country from Mexico. Many others accepted to resettle in Campeche, in Mexico.
They had spent many years in a foreign land but they had not lost hope and
confidence in God's presence. All they could remember from before the
repression was poverty, but a poverty filled with life and nature, precious gifts
from God, with family, the source of joy and hope, and their rich Mayan culture.
Returning to Guatemala, a much poorer country than Mexico, required
extraordinary courage and confidence in their own abilities. But so did staying in
Mexico to build a new life away from their native land.
The courage of the Guatemalan refugees was greatly strengthened by the
REMHI project (Historical Memory Recuperation), led by Monsignor Juan
Gerardi, auxiliary bishop of Guatemala City. For months, the refugees met to
recover their memories of war and death, exile and resistance. When the
project ended, an impressive mass of evidence had been gathered.
A few hours after the public presentation of his report, on the night of April 26th
1998, Monsignor Gerardi was murdered, presumably by military agents. But the
martyr himself, before his death, had annihilated much of the fear and trauma,
and replaced it in the hearts of the Guatemalan people with hope and courage.
The promise of God had not failed.
Raúl González Fabre SJ
Regional Co-ordinator, JRS Latin America
32
Fourth Week of Lent
Thursday
Genesis 21:14-17 So Abraham rose early in the morning, and took bread and a skin
of water, and gave it to Hagar, putting it on her shoulder, along with the child, and
sent her away. And she departed, and wandered about in the wilderness of Beer-
sheba. When the water in the skin was gone, she cast the child under one of the
bushes. Then she went and sat down opposite him a good way off, about the distance
of a bowshot; for she said, "Do not let me look on the death of the child." And as she
sat opposite him, she lifted up her voice and wept. And God heard the voice of the
boy; and the angel of God called to Hagar from heaven, and said to her, "What
troubles you, Hagar? Do not be afraid; for God has heard the voice of the boy where
he is.
Today, many refugee children are crying. Why are they crying? Who listens to
them? Whose fault is it? Who is responsible for it all? Some say that it is the
parents or grand parent’s fault, others that it is because of the ruling system of
their country, others still do not dare express their views.
One day, I was touched listening to a song: the children who remained at home
were sending messages to the refugee children outside the country and vice-
versa. The children who remained at home said: “ We miss you so much, we
have lost our friends to play with. At home, I no longer recognise the place
where my parents and grand parents used to live. All the roads are gone,
houses are gone or are in ruins, life is no longer how it used to be, and all
because of the war. When will you come back to us? We would find joy again
as before, play, weave mats together, go to collect the water and fetch wood. All
this because of the war”!
The children who left home answered: “Dear friends at home, we are separated
from everything, our friends, our relatives our games, our country. We no longer
know how to play or weave mats, life has changed and many thing have been
forgotten. All this because of the war! But one day life will return. Keep courage
and hope that life will return and that we will meet again”!
G.N.
Rwandan Refugee with JRS in Malawi
33
Fourth Week of Lent
Friday
Matthew 11:28-30 Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy
burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I
am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is
easy, and my burden is light.
I will never forget Sarah. She was a beautiful Somali woman who came to our
Bangkok office seeking help. She had been misled into believing that seeking
asylum and being re-united with family in a third country would be relatively
easy. Although she was weary from her home country’s struggles and from
tedious travel , she managed to maintain hope for a chance at peace and
stability. And so she and I began a journey.
Not only was Sarah stuck in Bangkok, but was without her husband and was
caring for their four children all under the age of seven. She and I had many
meetings together. Each time she would bring her dear children (there was little
chance for help with their care). We worked hard on her case to see what
realistic chance she may have for resettlement. We struggled to communicate;
we used translators; sought legal counsel and made appeals. Sometimes at
the end of our meetings, we just sat across from one another; without words.
We felt worn out, discouraged and depressed. We shed tears.
With each visit Sarah looked more tired and less hopeful. I too was a mother of
young ones, and could not imagine Bangkok without my husband’s support;
without kindness; without love. How long would she be able to keep up the
pursuit of much deserved peace?
It’s been two and a half years since I have seen Sarah. I don’t know where she
is or the final outcome of her efforts while in Thailand. Although she and I have
lived through these two and a half years in vastly different situations, we no
doubt have had our share of burdens. I think of her often and I pray her load is
made light.
Erin Carroll
JRS USA (Formerly Asia/Pacific)
34
Fourth Week of Lent
Saturday
Isaiah 61:1-2 The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed
me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the broken
hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; to proclaim
the year of the Lord's favour, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all
who mourn.
There is a young woman in the camp suffering from T.B. Her husband died of
the same disease over a year ago, and she has a small boy who is only three
years old. After the death of her husband, she was well for a while, but then she
started to deteriorate. She became very sick and often had to stay in bed. I
visited her almost daily. During her sickness she became very close to God.
She has no fear of death because she is going to God, who cares for her. She
is not asking to be cured, only to do God’s will. The woman is beautifully serene
and in peace.
A young girl, (no relation to her), was looking after her and the child, every day
for many months. When it became more serious and she was in need of
constant care, a group of Christian women took it upon themselves to look after
her. They made a roster and now every day there is someone to wash her, do
the cleaning , cooking, washing, caring for the child etc. When the child is sick
they go to the clinic with him. The Clinical Officer wanted to send the mother to
the hospital a few kilometres away, so as to lighten the women's burden a bit,
but the women refused, saying that they would not be able to go often enough,
that they had accepted together to take care of her knowing what it implies and
that they were happy to do it.
These women have been a source of inspiration to me, they are living everyday
this text of Isaiah. By their words and deeds they preach the Good News, their
care and love comfort her, they proclaim to her the liberty of the children of God,
they pray and read the Scripture with her on a daily basis. They act very quietly,
without making any fuss, but they are there when needed.
Sr Yolande Jacob MSOLA
JRS Southern Africa, Malawi
35
FIFTH WEEK OF LENT
Fifth Week of Lent
Sunday
Matthew 22: 36-40 Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?" He said
to him, "'You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul,
and with all your mind.' This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is
like it: 'You shall love your neighbour as yourself.' On these two commandments
hang all the law and the prophets."
I went along with Almanathi, a 14-year-old Albanian, to the office of the Judicial
Police where he had to put together his case for claiming asylum. Asked about
what he wanted from our country, he said "to study and to find a job!". "In that
case", said the official, "the State of Luxembourg cannot help you". The boy
had not asked for "protection and asylum". This is the formula required by the
Law.
Strictly speaking, the official was correct, but Almanathi himself was not wrong.
What he was looking for was quite simply the right to live. His father had been
killed one year before and his mother, in despair, had paid a large bribe to a
driver to bring the boy to Luxembourg.
Surely true justice requires that sometimes we look beyond the strict letter of
the Law, to apply the spirit it was intended to embody – the Geneva Convention,
for example, which guarantees the right to live in safety in a host country if war
is raging in your home country.
The discussion between Jesus and the Pharisees seems to me to have the
same theme. The Greatest Commandment? It is not contained in some legal
document: it is written in the hearts of those who accept to be freely loved by
the God of Love, and who respond not in a circumscribed way but "with all their
hearts, with all their souls, with all their minds". No less important is the second
Commandment: "You will love your neighbour as yourself".
Jesus was saying that both Commandments go together, and a law is to be
applied not only in accordance with the letter but also in accordance with its
spirit.
The greatest Commandment? Isn't this a commitment to respond to the love
given to me by God, who demands nothing in return, a commitment that brings
me closer to those who suffer?
Lord, help me to love in response to Your boundless love, to undertake to
respect and serve those whose dignity and whose basic rights are ignored!
Pierre Meyers SJ
JRS Europe, Luxembourg
37
Fifth Week of Lent
Monday
John 1:38-39 When Jesus turned and saw them following, he said to them, "What are
you looking for?" They said to him, "Rabbi, where are you staying?" He said to
them, "Come and see." They came and saw where he was staying, and they remained
with him that day.
The call of those who suffer is the driving force behind our presence here in the
region of the Great Lakes. We are children of the same father, they are my
brothers and sisters. They are victims of the greed and manipulation of those
who struggle to gain prestige and power. I often ask myself, 'if Jesus of
Nazareth were alive today, where would he live, how would he live and what
would make him stay in one place ?', and I try to apply this principle to my own
life. Commitment is tiring and stressful, we must live it in the light of this
mystery, otherwise, from a human perspective, it makes little sense. What gives
me strength is love beyond death.
Our presence here is not sterile, it has a purpose. We render a material and
human service. I sense this in a special way when I visit Kibyue in Rwanda,
where people often say to me "At least you are here for us". The women who
work with JRS climb towards a real Mount Calvary: Kiziba refugee camp.
What helps me enormously is the knowledge that we do not live this divine
experience alone. There are many men and women who live it intensely.
People who are prepared to sacrifice part of their lives for the same reasons. It
is a holy and human experience in the light of the Gospel.
Another important aspect of my life and our work is that here I am forced to deal
with complicated situations, which bring out qualities which were dormant in me.
The suffering I perceive forces me to react, to respond to that suffering, and
develop as a human being. Maybe life in the West is more comfortable,
pleasant and a lot easier. Nevertheless it is here in the Great Lakes where I can
express myself as a person.
Finally, this service among displaced people is born from pure love in a
precarious context. We were in Bukavu for three years. During the first year we
developed the project, the second we took our first steps and the third, when we
began to see the fruits of our labour, the refugee camps were razed to the
ground and thousands of people died. What is left in the end ? A tremendous
experience of love and total gratitude.
Mateo Aguirre SJ
Regional Director, JRS Grands Lacs
38
Fifth Week of Lent
Tuesday
Genesis 18:1-5 The Lord appeared to Abraham by the oaks of Mamre, as he sat at the
entrance of his tent in the heat of the day. He looked up and saw three men standing
near him. When he saw them, he ran from the tent entrance to meet them, and bowed
down to the ground. He said, "My lord, if I find favour with you, do not pass by your
servant. Let a little water be brought, and wash your feet, and rest yourselves under
the tree. Let me bring a little bread, that you may refresh yourselves, and after that
you may pass on - since you have come to your servant." So they said, "Do as you
have said."
It is lovely to be welcomed, to be reassured that my arrival is not an intrusion or
interruption or burden. It is heart warming to know that my presence brings
pleasure - that it is "well" that I have come. The places where, and the people
with whom I experience such welcome are indeed special. I remember them
now with gratitude.
The welcome which Abraham gave his visitors goes even beyond my own
experience. These people were not his family or friends. They were strangers,
travellers, passers by. I watch with admiration as he comes out of the shelter of
his tent into the heat of the day and begins to attend to their needs and comfort.
There is something "Godlike" in this level of attention to others "Yahweh is
waiting to be gracious to you "(Is. 30, 18).
I would like to be aware of this graciousness of God towards me, this pleasure
at my presence, this sensitivity to the hardships through which I have passed.
Yet my own welcome for people, especially for strangers (and almost all whom I
have encountered in recent years have been strangers, refugees or internally
displaced people) has been, is, so poor, so stingy, so fearful. Fearful that my
space and comfort and time will be invaded, taken over.
After all, I have many other things to do and what we are talking about here is
not three visitors and a rare event as for Abraham. For me, this ‘welcome’
means many, many people, and on a daily basis.
I halt the flow of defensive thoughts and turn again towards Abraham and to the
God who “waits to be gracious” to me, to all.
Sr Miriam Therese O’Brien
Programme Director, JRS West Africa
39
Fifth Week of Lent
Wednesday
Daniel 3:28 Nebuchadnezzar said, "Blessed be the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and
Abednego, who has sent his angel to the furnace and delivered his servants who
trusted in him. They disobeyed the king's command and yielded up their bodies rather
than serve and worship any god except their own God.
He will be forever a symbol of the woes - and the hope - of Eastern Africa.
Jamal left Ethiopia and made the dangerous trek into Kenya to find
employment. Family security had collapsed after the death of his father in a
skirmish with anti-government forces (which proceeded the death of his mother
during childbirth) and the eventual demise of the government and its ability to
provide a pension to soldier’s next-of-kin. The life of the four brothers and one
sister in a one room shack (not uncommon to many Ethiopian families) forced
21-year-old Jamal to Nairobi and ‘a better life’.
“Life is cruel” was the mantra which Jamal adopted to describe his new situation
in a new country. His economic estrangement excluded him from the political
refugee assistance network. Having left a shack to seek improvement, he now
found less than that and was forced to sleep outdoors. He begged for food. His
days were spent avoiding the police and their well-known harassment of
undocumented aliens. An askari, or security guard, at a wealthy house to which
Jamal had gone for food led him to me. Jamal was desperate, cold, and very,
very hungry. “Life is cruel.”
The original plan to return Jamal to Ethiopia was abandoned after he collapsed
at the initial convey station. Jamal was to be diagnosed with the HIV virus - a
virus which is rampant throughout East and Central Africa. After weeks of rest,
medicine, and doctor’s visits, Jamal was returned to Ethiopia and the care of an
AIDS program in Addis Ababa. Shortly before he left, we talked about life and
death. Jamal testified again that life was cruel, but he also assured me that
God was not. God is good and merciful. God had been with him throughout his
trials and had reminded Jamal that he was a person, a human, a man.
Disease, violence, and human indifference would engulf him in flames but never
destroy his relationship to God. God and God’s love were ever present. God
gave hope and made life less cruel.
Jim Horgan SJ
JRS Eastern Africa
40
Fifth Week of Lent
Thursday
Mark 4:26-29 The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground,
and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, they do
not know how. The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full
grain in the head. But when the grain is ripe, at once they go in with his sickle,
because the harvest has come.
My story with the refugees is the story of a failure. In those awful October days
in 1996 the war swept through the camp, swept away what we, together with
the refugees, had been trying to build; schools that were also to have meant life
for many.
But paradoxically, this story is also one of fruitfulness. I do not write this as a
consolation. The failure is real and it still hurts today, even if only because of the
suddenness of the separation. An example will show better what I mean by
fruitfulness.
When I was evacuated because of the war I felt so helpless. Events moved so
fast, so much out of my control. I was ashamed to leave the refugees but the
plane took me and brought me to safety…And I wept. Then, when I was lost,
not knowing what to do or where to go, I felt the closest I had ever been to the
refugees. And I realised that, despite our differences, something had grown
amongst the refugees and myself, bonding us; was it the grain of the Kingdom?
Today, throwing the light of this parable on those long days spent in the camps,
I discover that the greatest fruitfulness of our service was given through the
‘lost’ time. So I could paraphrase the Gospel in this way: “The Kingdom of God
is as if a JRS team should be asked to co-ordinate an education project.
Whether they can go to the camp or whether they cannot, because of the rain or
the soldiers, whether the educators are enthusiastic or whether they live in fear
of being expelled, the project develops itself, they know not how. Thanks to their
perseverance and because they see that others believe in them, the refugees
devote themselves: the teachers to their teaching and the young to their
studies. And at the end of the academic year, the results are encouraging and
everyone rejoices with processions, dances, and tambourines.”
We who accompany displaced persons, often in very unstable situations, are
we not invited to live this spirituality of insignificance, inefficiency, and patience?
The patience which is that of the Kingdom itself.
Christophe Renders SJ
JRS Grands Lacs
41
Fifth Week of Lent
Friday
Luke 17:12-19 As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their
distance, they called out, saying, "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!" When he saw
them, he said to them, "Go and show yourselves to the priests." And as they went,
they were made clean. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned
back, praising God with a loud voice. He prostrated himself at Jesus' feet and
thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. Then Jesus asked, "Were not ten made clean?
But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise
to God except this foreigner?" Then he said to him, "Get up and go on your way;
your faith has made you well."
Dear NN,
I am writing you this letter to show my sincere gratitude for your concern at my
plight and for looking after my welfare at the detention centre.
I also appreciate your visit to me as well as your detailed and encouraging
advice to the other detainees you talked to. They are very happy and
appreciative of all your help to them. The Kenyans, Sierra-Leonean, Ghanaians-
on their behalf I thank you so much. May God almighty be with you.
I must also thank you for the clothing. In fact, I have to give out some to other
detainees. The magazines have likewise been very helpful. They have been
keeping me informed of the news back at home in Nigeria and I appreciate it.
There are lots of things to thank you for you know. The radio you brought for
me, the ear phones, the batteries, are all well appreciated. Then you gave me
money to cap it all!
Likewise, I must not forget to thank you for the phone card you brought for me.
When I was narrating all that you did for me to my relatives, they could not
believe it but neither could they stop praying for you. I have called Nigeria today
but I have not been able to talk to anybody. However, before the week runs out
I will give you the reply. When I tried to phone Nigeria the phone was ringing out
but nobody was there to answer it.
It is only God Almighty that can reward you for all your good deeds and God will
surely give you good health and long life. Extend my greetings to all the
staff/workers in your offices.
Yours sincerely,
Edward
Letter to a JRS worker, JRS Europe
42
Fifth Week of Lent
Saturday
Genesis 1:27 & 31 So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he
created them; male and female he created them. God saw everything that he had
made, and indeed, it was very good. And there was evening and there was morning,
the sixth day.
Camp images:
Careworn, lined faces and calloused hands reach out in faith to receive the
Bread of life during a camp Eucharist. They are seeking so much more than
what comes from a food ration card, seeking what will nourish their inner life
and give comfort and consolation in a land of exile - strength to
believe in a better future.
Janine is four years old, born in a refugee camp. She has never know her own
country of Burundi. Janine loves to listen to stories and to dance. In the midst of
deprivation her capacity to dance with grace and elegance reveals God’s image
to me - and I find beauty within the poverty of ugliness.
Christophe reads whenever he can find a book. He is sixteen years old and a
survivor of genocide. He longs to be a doctor but he has no chance of
secondary schooling. His youth, filled with such a thirst for knowledge, is lived
out in a refugee camp. His ability to seek new horizons of knowledge and to
reach out to others reveals the divine ‘spark’ calling us beyond ourselves to be
so much more.... human, loving, compassionate.
Seven years old Cotilde carries her crying baby sister on her back all day.
Often she holds her on her lap and hugs her gently, so patiently. Perhaps the
little one is crying because she is hungry, or has malaria, or because her
mother has recently died here in the camp. In the tenderness of Clotilde for her
little sister, I see the image of God who embraces us.
And God saw all these refugees
male and female they were created
Showing tenderness, believing in a better future
dancing with grace and life,
and embracing their humanity, made in God’s image.
God saw all that s/he had made
and indeed it was very good
in fact, it was absolutely inspiring!
Louise Reeves
JRS Eastern Africa, Ngara, Tanzania
43
HOLY WEEK
Holy Week
Palm Sunday
Hebrews 13:1-2 Let mutual love continue. Do not neglect to show hospitality to
strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.
Remember those who are in prison, as though you were in prison with them; those
who are being tortured, as though you yourselves were being tortured.
It would be easy to entertain angels, if we knew in advance they were angels.
Eager to make a good impression, we would bring out the finest linen tablecloth,
and lay the table with our best cutlery. The food would be magnificent, the wine
even better. Our conversation would be a model of wit and sophistication, and,
needless to say, our table manners would be exquisite.
But the test of our hospitality is not how we greet a welcome guest, but how we
treat the stranger who comes to our door, uninvited, inconvenient, perhaps even
a little intimidating. It is difficult. We are required to show hospitality not just
when it is pleasant, or when it suits us, or when we feel we can afford it. We
are called on to welcome those whom we do not know, to take the unknown on
trust.
It can be threatening for us to be expected to host refugees. We didn't invite
these people, we argue; they are strangers to us, so why do we owe them
anything? They will cause us trouble and expense, and what will they give us in
return? Perhaps they are not who they say they are; perhaps they will abuse
our hospitality, and take us for fools. These fears are real. There are no
guarantees when you allow a stranger into your house. But we are called on to
take that risk, to lay ourselves open, to reach out a hand. Open the door.
Lena Barrett
Assistant Director, JRS Europe
45
Holy Week
Monday
Jeremiah 29:4-7 Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom
I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon : Build houses and live in them ;
plant gardens and eat what they produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters...
Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on
its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.
Initially the Israelites to whom these words were addressed did not wish to hear
them. They were intent, as are many refugees, on returning to the homeland
from which they had been exiled. But for many of them there was to be no
return, nor is there any return for many refugees today. Recently I was able to
visit what had been a refugee community in a foreign land. It was one of those
experiences which leave a deep impression. Fifteen years ago some of the
Vietnamese boat people who fled their country settled in Norway, became
citizens, married, had children. The difficulties they faced must have been
immense, in a country so different from their own, in the cold, among strangers.
This time it was I who was the unsettled traveller, having just left Africa at short
notice after several years living and working there, due to being unable to
obtain a residence permit for Angola. I was returning to my own part of the
world, but I was no longer accustomed to it and I was uncertain, searching for
a place to stay.
As I passed through Bergen I was given hospitality by one of those boat
people, to whom I was a stranger. He had been forced out of his country aged
eleven years, in terrible circumstances, having to leave his parents behind, not
knowing if he would ever see them again. Now he was proud of his adopted
country and his citizenship, proud to show me around the beauties of Bergen
and the surroundings, proud of the culture and the music Norway had
produced. I was entertained at his home, shown his workplace at the town hall
where he was doing community service in lieu of Norway’s compulsory military
service, and finally seen off at the station complete with a package of the finest
salmon sandwiches which he had made for me.
And on to Larvik where 80% of the parish are Vietnamese. I shared a Mass
with them, watching their beautiful children who are at home in both cultures.
They are giving so much to their new country, working for its welfare, returning
the original hospitality a hundred-fold. It is hard to be exiled far from your native
land. But it is beautiful to see the new life , full of hope, which can be built.
Let us pray that the refugees of today may be given a similar opportunity.
Anne Renfrew
JRS Southern Africa
46
Holy Week
Tuesday
Psalm 6:6 I am weary with my moaning; every night I flood my bed with tears; I
drench my couch with my weeping.
MaeJai cried a lot. She did hard labour without complaint, but while doing the
light household chores, she chattered non-stop. That is if she was given the
chance, paid some attention. Usually no one paid any attention to her, unless
to find fault or to yell at her. One day I sat sewing and she pretended to dust but
this was the Spirit-blessed chance for her to talk about how she had walked and
walked, picked roots and grasses from the forests as she and the small group
sustained themselves as they came through the northern hills. She was sold by
an uncle and so reached the provincial town but could never really see further
than the dark, rank room where she was forced to serve anyone and everyone
who paid the Mamasan.
She had managed to escape and been married to a local man, had a son who
now claimed his father’s ways, and cared for her elderly mother-in-law as well
as earning some cash for school fees and blankets and those kind of things.
MaeJai had seen a doctor for her psychological problems but the medication
and the trips to town were expensive and so her husband stopped both. She
was very depressed, felt powerless and couldn’t cope very well, but she had so
many responsibilities. The rewards and leisure were for others. So she talked,
told her story over and over again while I came to know all the characters and
their roles. And together we wept and wept until our eyes grew red and raw.
A second time we were given a similar chance; she talked and we wept and I
thought there was a glimmer of hope.
Less than a month later I flew to the North to preside at her funeral; she couldn’t
manage yet another fight, another demand, and so left this planet earth.
Emilie Ketudat
JRS Asia/Pacific
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Holy Week
Wednesday
Genesis 50:19-21 But Joseph said to his brothers… Do not be afraid; I myself will
provide for you and your little ones." In this way he reassured them, speaking kindly
to them.
When we read these words spoken so long ago by Joseph to his brothers in the
land of Egypt, we might think that they could not refer to the situation of
refugees and displaced people in our modern world. There is never the
guarantee of security, or even the hope that there will be somebody to look after
the displaced people. They seem so alone in the land in which they have
arrived and often have nobody who will take their side. Advocacy agencies are
over-stretched, sometimes indifferent, and often unable to make any real
difference. We want a Joseph-figure who would help with the most basic
necessities of food, housing, employment, a place to study, and the endless
bureaucratic problems of the displaced person.
But the fact is that this Joseph-figure is not there. At least, not the way we would
like him to be. We have to be Joseph to one another. We are the people in
place. God has put us there with a very special purpose. And if we feel we are
not up to this prophetic task, we are quite right. We cannot possibly do the task
on our own. We need to rely on the whatever help God sends.
Our displaced people arrive with human, if not material resources. In
Johannesburg the Mozambicans, the Somalis, the Congolese, the Burundians,
etc., have rapidly formed their own networks based on kinship or regional ties.
They conduct the Joseph-ministry among themselves. It is for us to enable
Joseph to be Joseph for his own people.
Peter Knox SJ
Johannesburg
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Holy Week
Holy Thursday
Leviticus 19:18 You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against any of your
people, but you shall love your neighbour as yourself: I am the Lord.
My experience in a ‘house of exile’ otherwise known as a detention centre, has
afforded me the opportunity to undergo the acid test on the biblical principle
contained in this text, that I love my neighbour as myself, the so-called ‘golden
rule’.
In this micro-world, which I refer to as the mini United Nations, we have the
convergence of so many people with different cultural, religious, and
educational backgrounds, from such a variety of different countries. Forced into
one ‘unholy family’ we remain in detention until our asylum claims are
processed.
Here, language barriers pose a major communication problem and the
atmosphere is anything but congenial. We do not talk of ‘unity in diversity’ – if
anything we could call it ‘disunity in adversity’. Most days are tension filled ones,
as detains face and experience endless disappointments and frustrations.
Hardly a day passes without some sense of aggravation. Being nice and kind to
everyone each and every day becomes a great burden.
On one occasion I considered I was very wronged and was feeling extremely
hurt. In church I prayed to God to help me deal with the matter, and
immediately, my mind settled on the cross. I began to meditate on Christ’s
passion: the betrayal; the angry mob shouting ‘crucify him!’, among whom there
may well have been those he had healed; the mockery; the bruises and the
wounds; the words spoken on the cross.
I prayed then: ‘Jesus, how is it that you suffered so much for my sake without
even so much as a grudge?’ And a still small voice whispered within me, ‘Love
conquers all’. These words brought an instant peace which has remained with
me.
Are you also hurt, feeling abused, misused? Pray the prayer of Jesus, ‘Father,
forgive them’. Rise above the negative emotions that drag you down to the pit of
self destruction. Reading the gospels can teach us many things, like how to be
good neighbours.
May the king of love pour out his love upon us all this Lenten season.
Anonymous
Elizabeth Detention Centre, JRS USA
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Holy Week
Good Friday
Romans 5:3-5 …suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character,
and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God's love
has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.
For several years I have had the privilege of working with refugees in Zaire,
Rwanda, and Burundi. Many factors have helped me better understand myself
and my limitations and strengths, such as the displaced themselves with whom I
work, the experience of living in a country impoverished by war and the
opportunity to live -at 57 and after many years of religious life- in a mixed
community.
The vast majority of displaced people have been dependant on outside help for
many years, and this has encouraged an attitude of dependency, of receiving
something for nothing. The so-called ‘white man’ is equated with money, clothes
and food. Many Africans have learnt (because we have taught them) that all
they have to do is arouse our sense of pity. The problem arises when we try to
help them help themselves; to develop self sufficient income generating
activities, for example, and this causes a certain degree of apprehension and
requires a great deal of negotiation on both sides. It is not always an easy path
to tread. Sometimes we can feel taken advantage of but on the other hand
when we contemplate the misery in which people live, we feel as if we could
give up all we have for them. Dialogue -with all the language barriers this
entails- and true love are the paths to follow to regain confidence and self
respect.
The difficulties which arise from living in an impoverished country, under an
international embargo, with little if any infrastructure, can often lead us to feel
like dropping it all and leaving. However, all it takes is a look at those who live
this reality everyday, who despite it all carry on fighting to survive, starting over
and over again with limitless patience. Then our usual efficiency is shattered
into a million pieces and we learn to take one step at a time, rejoicing in the
small things and admiring the strength of others. Those people who live with
great fear in their hearts, not knowing what will happen form one day to the
next, but who know how to welcome with a smile.
Working with refugees and displaced people is an invitation to trust in the
human spirit, in the capacity to outdo ourselves, even in the most difficult
situations.
Sr Teresa Florensa
Kiyange Projects Coordinator, JRS Grands Lacs
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Holy Week
Holy Saturday
Matthew 25:34-40 I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me
something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave
me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me…
for , just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you
did it to me.'
During the months of July, August, September 1997 the Kenyan police cracked
down on urban refugees in Nairobi, targeting mainly Rwandese refugees of
Hutu origin. Hundreds were arrested and kept in police stations for weeks and
months. Among the victims were many women and children, the youngest just
18 months old.
Thankfully, JRS volunteers were able to visit most of the police stations,
bringing food, water, blankets and medical supplies to the arrested refugees.
There was always time for a short chat when we could talk to women who were
worried about their children left alone at home, and men who asked us to
contact their families.
There was one police station where about half of those arrested were women
and children, and where the station Commander allowed us to come for a
Sunday Service. During the first Sunday Mass only women and children were
allowed to leave the cells. During the week they prepared songs; a choir of
prisoners, expressing their fears and helplessness in moving songs and
prayers. But there was also thanksgiving, that they were not left alone in their
ordeal.
As we shared tea and simple snacks after the mass there was often the
question ‘why us? What have we done to be treated like this? When will it end?
Will they deport us back to Rwanda?’ Of course, we had no answer to their
questions. After a few hours they went back to their cells and we had to leave
them, promising to return.
On the Sundays which followed the men were also allowed to join the Sunday
Service. All of them, Catholics, Protestants, Muslims celebrated together.
During the shared reflections one man stood up and quoted the bible: ‘I was
hungry and you gave me food, ... in prison and you came to see me.’ There
followed a long silence, where I came close to tears. Finally, a JRS Sister from
Zaire found what seemed to me to be exactly the right words: ‘Nobody can
protect you, not the Government, not the High Commissioner for Refugees.
Only God can. And God will! Trust in God!’
On my way home I thanked God for the privilege to serve these poor brothers
and sisters.
Fr Eugene Birrer
JRS Eastern Africa
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EASTER SUNDAY
EASTER
EASTER SUNDAY
Matthew 28:1-10 After the Sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary
Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. And suddenly there was a great
earthquake; for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled back
the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as
snow. For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men. But the angel
said to the women, "Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was
crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place
where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples, 'He has been raised from the
dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.' This is
my message for you." So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy, and ran
to tell his disciples. Suddenly Jesus met them and said, "Greetings!" And they came
to him, took hold of his feet, and worshipped him. Then Jesus said to them, "Do not
be afraid; go and tell the others to go to Galilee; there they will see me."
Over the past weeks in these Lenten reflections we have heard of some of the
many innocent people forced to leave their homes, we have read about the
seemingly endless conflicts, we have been chilled to learn that children are
taught to carry weapons and to commit horrors. We may be numbed by this
knowledge and even tempted to lose hope.
Whence can our world find hope? How can we face the constant warring? How
can we emerge from the repeated disasters that so many people suffer?
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Easter can bring a different light to our world’s events. Easter offers a fresh and
helpful perspective on human suffering and failure. Through Easter, hope and
joy grow for all who suffer; life rises from the womb of the grave.
Let us accompany two of Jesus’ friends as they go in sorrow to that burial site
early on the Sunday morning. Mary Magdalene and the other Mary revisit the
grave in the vain hope of being near the dead. But the power of God is at work.
There in front of an empty tomb is a messenger of God clothed in light and
sitting on the rolled-back stone, as if claiming it, the gate of death, for God. To
the side, we see the soldiers. They were so powerful on Friday, now on Sunday
they tremble and faint dead away.
Echoing the words of their master, the messenger allays the women’s fears.
“Do not be afraid.” The messenger announces the most simple and most
wonderful event in the history of creation: “He is not here, he is risen, as he
said. Come and see the place where he lay.” The women’s hearts are in
turmoil, sorrow turns to fear and fear turns to joy. Joy and hope drive out dread
and despair. The power of life given by God transforms fear into joy mixed with
awe.
Good news is to be shared, so the women run to their forlorn and heartbroken
friends. On their way, Jesus himself finds them. He seeks them out with his
message of reassurance. They cling to him, wanting never to lose him again. In
asking them to meet him in Galilee, he says two words that contain the whole
Gospel message: “my brethren”. Despite denial, desertion, cowardice, loss of
faith and hope, there is no recrimination or rebuke, no conditions for return. All
is the same yet totally different. They are still his disciples, yet they need no
longer shrink from the thought of his death or their own. They, and we, are now
brothers and sisters of the risen Jesus. Henceforth they, and we, do not need
his physical presence. They, and we, will find him in the Spirit and in the
breaking of bread.
As we accompany Mary Magdalene and the other Mary we can imagine and
reflect on the human tragedies of our contemporary world, thinking of many
victims of conflict and of the many refugees. Pray for the faith to see how Easter
can and does transform these events. Pray that hope and joy may replace our
fears and sorrows. Pray that the light which shines forth through the risen
Jesus, will truly enlighten every human being.
Mark Raper SJ
JRS International Director
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