Catégories
Vie de l'église

In South America’s ‘Lithium Triangle,’ Indigenous people defend sacred sites

On Dec. 16, Indigenous activists from the remote province of Jujuy, in far northwestern Argentina, were preparing to pack up their camp in a public plaza in Buenos Aires, where they had been living since August, when a group of heavily armed men arrived to forcibly remove them.

The dozen or so activists had come to protest a change in Jujuy’s provincial constitution that they say will make it easier for mining companies to extract lithium from the Indigenous community’s land. Their extended stay in Argentina’s capital allowed them to present their case to the Supreme Court, the Congress and the presidential administration before they were forced out.

« There are some mining projects already in progress, and others getting government authorization. We’ll keep resisting them, » said Néstor Jerez, « cacique, » or head man, of the Ocloya people and one of the leaders of the struggle. « They cause serious damage to the environment and are a kind of pillage of Pachamama, » referring to the South American earth goddess.

The Supreme Court and the Congress is expected to respond to the protesters’ demands within 60 days. When the decision comes down, said Jerez, activists will be ready to organize new marches.

Jujuy is part of the so-called Lithium Triangle, a large swath of the Andes that includes parts of Chile, Bolivia and Argentina that contains huge lithium reserves. Over the past decade, international mining companies have disputed local regulations and property rights, aiming to free up access to the natural lithium deposits found beneath the triangle’s salt flats.

For the region’s small farmers and cattle ranchers, most of them of Indigenous origin, lithium mining is a multifaceted problem. They have lived in Jujuy and the surrounding area since time immemorial but don’t own the land they work, making it easier for local and national officials to cede the rights to mining endeavors.

Another issue is water, which lithium mining consumes in massive volumes. In the dry climate and scarce water supply of the triangle, mining projects, the growers fear, will deplete irrigation for crops and animals while polluting streams and groundwater.

Not least, the Indigenous population sees lithium extraction as a disruption of their ancient relationship with the mountains that surround their homes, which they hold as sacred.

« For the Andean peoples, mountains have no rank of divinity, but they’re protective beings or locations and for this reason they are sacred. Mountains are also linked to the condors, » affirmed the Rev. Vidal Zerpa, an Indigenous member of the Roman Catholic Church’s National Team of Indigenous Pastoral, an activist organization known by the Spanish acronym Endepa.

Andean peoples over the centuries have held condors in high regard, seeing them as entities that connect the upper world (« Hanan Pacha, » the celestial dimension with the stars, the moon and the gods) with the intermediary or present world (« Kay Pacha, » where humans, animals and the environment dwell). The underworld (« Uku Pacha ») is where the dead and the minerals are located.

Those different worlds can be connected. Caves and other openings in the Earth are said to link to Uku Pacha, for instance. Through ceremonial rites, « people connect to each other and to Pachamama, » Zerpa, who belongs to the Kolla people, explained.

« For us in the Andes, everything that exists on our planet has life: people and animals, rocks, mountains, rivers, plants, trees. Nothing is quiet, not even the stars, the noon or the sun, » Zerpa said.

The great lithium projects threaten to create imbalances in that structure.

Among Zerpa’s Kolla, as with many South American religions, faith is shaped by a complex synthesis of traditional cosmology and the Catholicism the Spanish colonizers brought 500 years ago. The Catholic Church and the Indigenous people also come together to fight for the spiritual purity of the land.

« The local prelature of Humahuaca has always accompanied the communities in the struggle for the communal lands’ deeds and in defense of the salt flats, » said Zerpa, referring to the local bishopric. He complains that in more recent years « it has been more distant, » saying that the church failed to express « its prophetic voice in the current resistance. »

Endepa priests and missionaries, however, have been at the forefront of the movement.

The Ocloya’s Néstor Jerez defined the big corporations’ involvement in Jujuy as a « lab experiment of international capital » in which so-called green capitalists are looking for new ways to take hold of traditional populations’ land. « Our life is based on the idea of « buen vivir » (good living). All elements must coexist in balance. We don’t live in the territory, we’re part of it, » Jerez said.

On the other side of the Chilean border, in the Atacama desert, where a number of mining projects are being developed, Indigenous peoples have been divided in their response. On Dec. 7, Cleantech Lithium, a British company, reached an agreement with three Colla communities in the Copiapó region. The following day, the National Colla People Council, along with several other signatories, repudiated the agreement.

« (M)ore than 90% of the Colla People have not been consulted or invited to participate in any way in the decisions that are being made regarding what will be done in the territory that belongs to an entire people, » the council said in a statement.

Colla leader Elena Rivera, a member of the National Council’s directors, told Religion News Service that most Indigenous groups in the region don’t want mining. « We know of the damages caused to the environment by lithium exploitation operations. The environmental measures applied here in Chile are favorable to the companies, » she said.

Rivera said that the Colla perform religious ceremonies close to the salt flats and mountains. « In the mountains, there are ‘huacas’ (sanctuaries containing sacred rock sculptures) left by ancestral societies. In regions that may be exploited, close to salt flats, there are centuries-old cemeteries, » she said.

The same pattern has occurred in Brazil, where the Canadian mining company Sigma Lithium has been working on a deposit of lithium estimated to contain 110 million tons in the Valley of Jequitinhonha, a poor area in the northern part of the state of Minas Gerais. Traditional populations such as the « quilombola » communities — descendants of enslaved Africans who fled captivity during slavery — as well as Indigenous groups have been feeling the impact already.

« It’s an area where different biomes are mixed. Deforestation is already noticeable, » said Cleonice Pankararu, a biologist and a member of the Pankararu people.

Her village, where members of the Pankararu and Pataxó peoples live together, is only a few miles from the mining operation’s base. Cleonice said the company has been using water from the nearby rivers to mitigate the dispersion of dust generated by the miners’ blasting.

« But the dust is here. It affects our lungs, especially for children. The explosions cause great vibration and disturb the local fauna. We have been noticing there is a concentration of bats and bees in our territory now, » she described.

The rivers and the mountains of the area are home to the « enchanted » — spiritual entities revered by the Pankararu. The destruction of their environment has saddened many villagers, especially the elders, Cleonice said.

Of particular concern is the destruction of the habitat of a flowering plant of the bromeliad family known as croá. The Pankararu ritually collect croá to make the praiá, a sacred garment worn by the « enchanted » during the toré ritual.

In her opinion, the rhetoric concerning energy transition and green economy is simply phony. « We don’t believe in sustainable mining. It doesn’t exist, especially when it comes to lithium, » Cleonice concluded.

Catégories
Catholisisme

Time of Fulfillment

(Third Sunday in Ordinary Time-Year B; This homily was given on January 20 & 21, 2024 at Saint Augustine Church in Providence, Rhode Island; See Jonah 3:1-10, 1 Corinthians 7:29-31 and Mark 1:14-20) 

Catégories
Vie de l'église

Third Sunday of Ordinary Time: The reign of God

Some people approach the New Testament as if it were a dogmatic history recounting what was, what ought to be and offering a privileged preview to all that is to come. If they’re too fundamentalist, they’ll seriously think about plucking out their eye (Matthew 18:9) — or at least strive to never look at anything that might be tempting. (In old-time religious life, sisters and brothers were admonished to keep « modesty of the eyes, » an avoidance of looking at « worldly » things — especially members of the opposite sex.) In our day, we interpret Scripture in its historical and cultural context, realizing that not even our Scriptures are free from images of God that reflect our frailties, saying more about us than about God.

As we hear a bit about Jonah today, we’re aware that his story isn’t an historical account of a fellow who spent a while in a whale, went on to a successful preaching career and finally became furious with God for not wreaking vengeance on a sinful but repentant people. Actually, we can read the Book of Jonah as the comic book of the Bible, a tale to make us laugh — until we recognize ourselves in the ridiculous conclusion of the story.

Today’s selection from Jonah focuses only on his successful call for conversion, ending with the statement that God « repented of the evil that he had threatened. » This statement needs to be understood in context. In the variety of images of God we find in Scripture, we hear about God as everything from a tender mother (Numbers 11:12) to a God of dreadful vengeance (Psalm 137: 7-9, Nahum 1:2). Our ancestors in the faith, like many of us, projected their expectations on God and counted on God to unleash divine power to destroy the unrighteous (a term often referring to their enemies). That’s quite a different image from Jesus’ description of his father who cares if a sparrow falls and waits patiently for a wayward child. A vengeful image of God reflects nothing of the compassion Jesus consistently demonstrated. 

We hear something quite different with Mark’s portrayal of the beginning of Jesus’ ministry.  Careful reading shows us that the only words Jesus actually preaches in the first chapters of Mark’s Gospel are, « This is the time of fulfillment. The reign of God is at hand. Repent and believe in the good news. » From Mark 1 to 4, Jesus calls disciples, heals people and converses with them; he also gets into arguments with religious authorities, warning them that they are in danger of blaspheming against the Holy Spirit. But through all of that, the only actual preaching we hear are those 20 words cited above. 

We might say that those 20 words referring to fulfillment, the reign of God, repentance and belief in good news are the core message of the entire Gospel. Everything else that Jesus said and did demonstrated the meaning of that message, emphasizing « repent and believe, » two words which might ultimately signify the same thing. Jesus’ call to repentance, metanoia, invited people to take on a new mindset. 

Representing his Father, Jesus didn’t focus on sin. He urged people to believe that the reigning of God, a world moving unstoppably toward unity in love, was happening in their midst. In calling them to metanoia, Jesus invited others to see what he saw — that the world was on the way to a future in which God would be all in all — and that future was already appearing. 

That message was so attractive that people began to follow him. Many continued to watch him and listen to him, gradually getting caught up in the contagious vision he offered. A chosen few accepted the invitation to throw their lot in with him and join his cause. They entered into a process of learning, of discipleship, in the course of which they found themselves transformed and giving their lives in imitation of Jesus. The more this happened, the more the announcement of the reign of God became a self-fulfilling prophecy. 

Jesus’ announcement of the nearness of the reign of God was not one and done. The reign of God describes a web of relationships that continually grows, drawing more and more people into unity with God and neighbor — and with all of creation. Each generation is invited to develop that web in the ways most appropriate to their context, accepting the task of adapting the Gospel message so that it remains both faithful and relevant. 

Today, Christ and all our ancestors in the faith invite us to adopt the mindset that expects to see that « This is the time of fulfillment. The reign of God is at hand. »

Catégories
Vie de l'église

The Eucharist is a mystery to be lived

Growing up in my small parish in Iowa, I always loved Communion — and not only because I knew that by the time Communion came around, Mass was almost over. But even when I was a kid, something within told me it was special. I would hold the host in the side of my cheek all the way back to my pew and let it dissolve, seeing how long I could make it last. 

As I grew in my faith, so did my love of the Eucharist, not only in how we shared it together during Mass, but how I was likewise called to become what I had received.

So, when I heard about the National Eucharistic Revival, called for by the U.S. bishops in 2021 and culminating at Pentecost of 2025, I was curious. Was this a way to invite our communities back after worshiping virtually through a pandemic? Was this a desire to help restless hearts rest in the body of Christ? Was this a religious response to a political question? 

As I’ve grown in my spirituality, I’ve become less interested in answers and my questions remained mostly just that. More urgently, at the time the revival surrounding the body of Christ was beginning in 2022, I was navigating hard decisions related to my own body.

That was when, at 42, I underwent a hysterectomy to remove my uterus and a 7-centimeter fibroid, ending pain and discomfort that were akin to being five months pregnant. I had always wanted to be a mother. I had always seen myself getting married and having children of my own. Yet, the years passed and relationships went stagnant. It just never happened. 

I gave of myself in different ways as a pastoral care minister in a parish and later as a chaplain in a retirement community. I held fragile hands as their pulses faded. My hair had been bathed in nursing assistants’ tears after the death of a beloved resident. 

At the height of the coronavirus pandemic, while the world shut down and churches closed their doors, I still worshiped at many tabernacles — they just happened to look like residents’ rooms. I prayed many a holy hour with the body of Christ, it simply took the form of a dying 90-year-old man.

The months and years of discernment and dialogue with my physician made me confident in my decision to have surgery. Yet losing my fertility left wounds on my body, heart, soul and mind. When I returned to Mass, I couldn’t help but touch my sutures tenderly during the Liturgy of the Eucharist. When the priest held up the host and repeated the words of Jesus, I prayed with my own wounds, « This is my body, given for you. » Likewise, when he held up the chalice: « This is my blood, my heart, poured out for you. »

The longer I prayed with my scars, visible and invisible, the easier it was to see them in others. As a pastoral care minister and chaplain, I had learned that every person carries stories and wounds with them of which they do not speak. Now my own body had been broken open, too, and my heart and soul along with it. 

I recognized the deep sigh of the cashier at the grocery store. I stopped judging the man in the median with the cardboard sign saying, « Anything helps. » When a friend lost her temper, I left my defenses at the door and just listened.

Maybe it’s simply a matter of increased exposure, with the constancy of news and social media, but I can’t seem to go a day without hearing of another war, another atrocity against human dignity, another person receiving a cancer diagnosis or another life ended in despair. And at every one, my heart breaks.

If there was a time for a revival in the Eucharist, now is the time. If there was a time to turn toward God’s incomprehensible love for us, it is now. But the needs of our neighbors and the call of our faith demand eminently more than, « thoughts and prayers. »

Pope Benedict XVI (yes, Benedict) wrote in his apostolic exhortation Sacramentum Caritatis, « The eucharistic mystery thus gives rise to a service of charity towards neighbour, which, ‘consists in the very fact that, in God and with God, I love even the person whom I do not like or even know. … Then I learn to look on this other person not simply with my eyes and my feelings, but from the perspective of Jesus Christ.’ « 

Dorothy Day wrote in her autobiography, « It is a terrible thought — ‘we love God as much as the one we love the least.’  » Frankly, it is a terrible thought. With all my years of spiritual direction, formation, therapy and theologizing, there are still people who come to mind like a sword piercing my heart when I hear Dorothy say, « We love God as much as we love the one we love the least. »

It’s easy to love my neighbor when they think like me, dress like me, act like me, look like me, worship like me, believe like me. Haven’t hurt me. Don’t inconvenience me. 

But what about the ones that do? The one who is different from me? The one who has hurt me? That one who comes to mind with Dorothy Day’s terrible thought? The one who has me begging, « Not them, Lord. Anyone but them. I’ll work on loving anyone but that one person? » 

But that’s not how Christ loved. Christ loved people who were not like him. He loved people who did not look like him. He loved people who opposed him. He loved people who hurt him and his believers.

Every time we encounter the Eucharist, whether at Mass or in adoration, we are invited to encounter our brother and sister as Christ, to love them as Christ. We come in the presence of Love personified. We come in the presence of what it means to give one’s whole self for another. 

Long after our holy hour has ended, beyond the curbs of the church parking lot, when the host has dissolved in the side of our cheek, the Eucharist lives on in each of us. It is not just something to be contemplated, meditated or reflected on. It is a mystery to be lived.

Catégories
Vie de l'église

What are sacred forests?

Sacred forests and groves are primeval woodlands that different faith communities around the world have safeguarded for centuries as abodes of the spiritual or the divine.

Thousands of sacred forests have survived. They’re the church forests in Ethiopia’s highlands, hillside groves considered holy by Catholics in Italy, woodlands revered by Shinto practitioners in Japan and Indigenous people in Siberia, Australia, the Americas and India.

Sacred forests are also treasure troves of biodiversity and are often the last bastion for species of flora and fauna that have become rare or even extinct elsewhere in those regions.

Climate change, pollution and urbanization pose threats to these sacred spaces. Tended for generations by faithful caretakers, environmentalists and governments are now making a push to protect these areas as well.

Why are forests sacred?

In many parts of the world, small groves or larger forests have been preserved because the local people consider these spaces their connection to the divine.

Sacred forests share a number of commonalities. They are often in hilly areas where deities are said to reside. The trees, rivers, plants, animals, even the stones that inhabit the holy space are viewed as sacred as well. These woodlands may be sites that are linked to specific events, and sites that surround places of worship or ancestral shrines.

What can you do or not do in a sacred forest?

Many sacred forests have restrictions prohibiting activities and limiting access only to specific communities. Hunting, gathering, wood cutting, cultivation and other activities may be strictly prohibited in these spaces. In many sacred forests even breaking a twig or plucking a leaf or flower is unacceptable.

Selvi Nanji is a member of the Kurumba tribe that cares for Banagudi Shola, a sacred forest in Kotagiri in the Nilgiris Hills of southern India. She said the worship spaces and temples in that woodland are often restricted to male members who perform the rituals and care for the shrines. Nanji, who now lives in Sweden, wrote a book titled « Devasolai, » which means « sacred forest » in Kurumba.

In Banagudi forest, entering with footwear is prohibited near holy shrines. However, in some forests, people are permitted to collect fallen timber or fruit as well as honey, medicinal plants, and wood for cremation.

How are Indigenous rituals and practices different?

In India, the Kurumbas, whose total population Nanji estimates as 2,000, are officially classified as Hindu. About 80% of India is Hindu. However, Nanji said Indigenous religious practices and rituals are different from those of Hindu traditions.

« Hindu rituals typically involve offering coconuts and bananas to the deities, » she said. « But, in Indigenous traditions, we perform rituals with what is available in the forest. Resin from trees is used. »

Plants are used to dress the deities instead of fabric, which is typically used in Hindu temples. In Banagudi Shola, sacred rituals are performed annually by the tribe’s men to coincide with agricultural seasons. An animal, typically a goat, is sacrificed during the ritual, Nanji said. The Kurumba medicine people collect herbs, roots and tree bark from the forest, she said.

Are there different types of sacred forests?

Yes. An example is Muttunad Mund near Kotagiri, a grassland that is sacred to the Toda tribe. Aradkuttan, an elder in the community, said this location is akin to the tribe’s headquarters. The location is marked by a conical temple dedicated to the deity Moonbu, constructed with stone, cane and a special type of grass from the sacred grasslands. The annual temple ritual is a one-month affair featuring song, dance, rituals and buffalo, which are sacred to the tribe. Celebrants eat a special meal during the festival — white rice mixed with buffalo buttermilk and butter.

M. Alwas, who heads the Nilgiris Adivasi Welfare Association in Kotagiri, a nonprofit that aims to help tribes in the region, said one of the main challenges is getting the younger generation involved.

« Each community has its own traditional knowledge, » said Alwas, who belongs to the Toda tribe. « They have stories of why a forest or river or tree is important. »

As interest in preserving faith traditions wanes, Alwas fears those stories and practices could be lost and with them, the value of these sacred spaces.

While some worry tourism would « commercialize » the forests, others like Nanji believe that ecotourism could be beneficial if done right. She said it might help outsiders understand the importance of sacred groves and boost job opportunities in the region.

« Spotlighting local food can also give traditional agriculture a much-needed shot in the arm, » Nanji said.

Catégories
Vie de l'église

Diocese of Peoria, Ill., shuts down The Catholic Post newspaper after 90 years

Bishop Louis Tylka of Peoria has ended publication of The Catholic Post, the newspaper of the Diocese of Peoria founded nearly 90 years ago, and announced that « as we look to the future, we will develop new strategies in a wider communications plan. »

« While it is true that we will no longer have a diocesan newspaper, I am committed to exploring new opportunities to share the stories of our faith in the Diocese of Peoria, » wrote Tylka in a letter mailed Jan. 11 to the biweekly newspaper’s 10,000 subscribers.

The final regular edition was dated Dec. 24, 2023.

Established in 1934 as The Peoria Register and part of a pioneering chain of diocesan newspapers printed in Denver, its name was changed to The Catholic Post in 1969 when both production and printing were moved within the diocese.

The Catholic Post has a rich history in the Catholic press. Two of its former editors — Msgr. Robert G. Peters, who was editor or publisher for 47 years, and Albina Aspell, a pioneer among women in Catholic journalism — served as president of the Catholic Press Association of the United States and Canada, now the Catholic Media Association, or CMA. Both also were recipients of the association’s highest honor, the St. Francis de Sales Award.

Peters’ technical skills helped guide many Catholic publications into the computer age. In 1987, Aspell addressed St. John Paul II and a world Synod of Bishops on the need for the Catholic Church to be more open in providing information.

Fr. John Dietzen, former associate editor, began a question-and-answer column that was syndicated by Catholic News Service and was its most popular offering for many years.

The Catholic Post regularly received CMA recognition for journalistic excellence, including third place for Best Newspaper in its classification in 2022. Since 1963, the newspaper also published the annual directory of the Diocese of Peoria.

Tom Dermody, who served as editor of The Catholic Post for 32 years until his retirement in 2022, called its closing « a difficult goodbye. » He said the decision was « the latest evidence of a seismic shift that continues to rock journalism » as print publications in both the secular and religious press seek their place in an increasingly digital age.

Dermody lamented that dioceses are losing in the transition — including a regular, tangible connection shared by Catholics, parishes, and schools in their regions — but he focused on gratitude for all that The Catholic Post accomplished in serving the church for nine decades.

« It was born during the Great Depression, » said Dermody of the diocesan newspaper, « and came of age during World War II. It guided Catholics through the changes of the Second Vatican Council and did not shirk from controversy. »

« It shared the teachings of eight popes, seven bishops, and the faith witnesses of thousands, » he continued in a column reflecting on the closing. « It bridged a new millennium and embraced the digital age with an active website and a Facebook community that had grown to 8,500 followers. And when a pandemic shut down churches for weeks on end, The Catholic Post didn’t miss a beat, eventually capturing the joy and reverence when Catholics were at last able to receive the Eucharist again. »

Tylka cited the challenges of declining subscriptions, increasing costs, and a shrinking workforce as factors in his decision.

He expressed gratitude to « all those who have shared in the history of producing The Catholic Post. » Among the newspaper’s current staff members is Sonia Nelson, advertising manager for 36 years.

« Over the last 90 years, many have come to understand who we are as the Church and have learned more of our faith in Jesus Christ through their efforts, » wrote Tylka. Through the decades, he added, The Catholic Post has been « a trusted source of information, inspiration, and formation in the Catholic faith for tens of thousands of Catholic families. »

Catégories
Vie de l'église

US climate envoy John Kerry, who called pope a ‘moral authority’ on climate, to step down

John Kerry, a longtime U.S. politician who has been dedicated to addressing climate change and has welcomed and amplified Pope Francis’ intervention on the issue, will be leaving his post as the lead climate negotiator for the United States.

Multiple news outlets reported over the weekend that Kerry will be stepping down from his position as U.S. special presidential envoy for climate by the spring. According to Axios, the 80-year-old will turn his attention to helping President Joe Biden’s reelection campaign.

A Catholic from Massachusetts whose career included stints as a U.S. senator, Democratic presidential nominee and secretary of state, Kerry has made climate change a central focus throughout his four-decade career in public service.

Kerry helped broker the landmark 2015 Paris Agreement and has been Biden’s point person since day one to the international community on climate, tasked with rebuilding relationships and U.S. reputation on environmental matters in the wake of Donald Trump’s presidency.

In that work, Kerry has viewed the pope as a global leader and important ally.

« The pope is one of the great voices of reason and compelling moral authority on the subject of the climate crisis, » Kerry told Vatican News following a May 2021 private audience with Francis.

Kerry has called « Laudato Si’, on Care for Our Common Home, » Francis’ 2015 encyclical on ecology, « a very, very powerful document » and « eloquent and morally very persuasive. »

« [Laudato Si’] calls for a common response to the critical threat climate change poses to our common home. His plea for all religions to work together reflects the urgency of the challenge, » Kerry said after its release, as secretary of state under President Barack Obama.

More recently, Kerry again praised the pope’s « powerful words » in Laudate Deum, Francis’ apostolic exhortation « on the climate crisis » issued in October. Kerry said, « His Holiness should be heard by all when he writes we can only solve this crisis if we can ‘count on the commitment of all.’ « 

« As a Catholic politician, Kerry has been a model for other Catholics in leadership in the spirit of Laudato Si’ and Laudate Deum, » said Servite Fr. John Pawlikowski, an emeritus professor at Catholic Theological Union and member of the climate action task force for the Parliament of the World’s Religions.

Kerry has met personally several times with Francis, including twice as the country’s first-ever climate envoy under Biden. After both meetings, he exalted the potentially game-changing presence the pope could bring to the issue at the annual United Nations climate conferences.

Following the May 2021 meeting, Kerry hinted that Francis might attend the COP26 summit in Glasgow, Scotland, where he could have « a profound impact » as nations sought to remain focused on climate change amid the COVID-19 pandemic and other global crises.

« We need everybody in this fight. All the leaders of the world need to come together and every country needs to do its part, » Kerry told Vatican News at the time, adding, « I think his Holiness speaks with a moral authority that is quite separate. It’s unique and we need all the power we can bring to the table. »

Ultimately, the pope remained in Rome, sending multiple messages to Glasgow in his stead.

Two years later, Kerry left another meeting last June with Francis with renewed confidence the pope would attend the COP28 summit in Dubai. That was the plan until illness forced Francis to cancel the trip, what would have been the first for a pope in the nearly 30 years of the U.N. climate summits.

Speaking with NCR and other Vatican-based reporters, Kerry commended the Holy See for joining the Paris Agreement and U.N. Framework Convention on Climate Change, saying the tiny city-state possesses « remarkable leverage » on climate matters.

« He believes it very deeply, » Kerry said of Francis. « He’s very troubled by where we are and where we are not, where we should be. »

A veteran of the Vietnam War and a Boston College graduate, Kerry served 28 years in the Senate (1984-2012) and was the Democratic nominee for president in 2004. During that campaign, he came under the spotlight after several U.S. bishops, including then-St. Louis Archbishop Raymond Burke, sought to deny him Communion over his stances on abortion.

Widely respected in the arena of international diplomacy, Kerry was in the middle of several major deals among nations to take more aggressive action on climate change.

As Obama’s secretary of state from 2013 to 2017, he helped forge the Paris Agreement, where all nations for the first time agreed to take steps to cut their greenhouse gas emissions toward the goal of limiting average global temperature rise to « well below » 2 degrees Celsius (3.6 degrees Fahrenheit) and ideally 1.5 C (2.7 F).

Kerry at the Paris summit endorsed adding the 1.5 C target into the document, a major priority of island nations (one backed by the Holy See), which face losing their lands and culture to rising seas. When he signed the Paris accord for the U.S. in 2016, he did so with his 2-year-old granddaughter by his side.

Under Biden, he returned to lead U.S. international climate negotiations, forming a Catholic climate duo in the administration alongside fellow Massachusettsan Gina McCarthy, who led domestic efforts as national climate adviser for two years.

As climate envoy, Kerry’s first task was rebuilding the U.S. reputation after Trump pulled the nation out of the Paris accord and worked to undo many environmental and climate-focused regulations. Kerry also amplified the nation’s commitment to climate action through the more than $300 billion in climate spending in the Inflation Reduction Act.

Kerry sought out greater investments from the private sector and worked to arrange several joint agreements between the U.S. and China — the world’s top-two emitting countries — including ahead of COP28, where nations for the first time agreed to transition away from fossil fuels.

Still, Kerry faced criticism from countries and environmental groups skeptical of U.S. commitments or who viewed them as too little, as well as for the limited funds Congress has provided to developing countries for climate mitigation, adaptation and recovering from climate-related losses and damage.

Pawlikowski said Kerry’s positive working relationship with his Chinese counterpart, Xie Zhenhua, « has been critical for the constructive, if limited, progress » on climate by nations, including at COP28. 

Susan Hendershot, president of Interfaith Power & Light, told EarthBeat that Kerry « will be deeply missed » in his role as the country’s chief climate negotiator.

« As a politician and a consummate diplomat, his commitment to finding solutions to the biggest existential crisis ever to face humanity has been inspiring, » she said. « I have heard him speak of his deeply held values that have guided his thinking and his motivation. Mr. Kerry knows that climate change is not just an economic crisis or a political crisis, but a moral crisis that demands our attention and our action. »

Catégories
Vie de l'église

Nicaraguan Bishop Álvarez Released, Exiled After Over 500 Days Of Detention

Nicaraguan Bishop Rolando Álvarez of Matagalpa has been released from prison and sent into exile — along with 18 other churchmen who had been imprisoned — as Nicaragua’s government expelled its most prominent critic. Bishop Álvarez’s presence behind bars bore witness to the Sandinista regime descent into totalitarianism, along with its unrelenting persecution of the Catholic Church.

Vatican News confirmed Jan. 14 at 10:41 p.m. Rome time that with the exception of one priest who remained in Venezuela, all released priests, including Bishop Álvarez and Bishop Isidoro Mora of Siuna, have arrived in Rome « in the last few hours » and are “guests of the Holy See.”

Nicaraguan independent media 100% Noticias posted a photograph on X, formerly Twitter, of the two freed bishops concelebrating Mass in Rome.

Independent Nicaraguan media reported Jan. 14 that the churchmen had departed Nicaragua on a flight for Rome after the government reached an agreement with the Vatican for their release and exile. Auxiliary Bishop Silvio José Báez of Managua — who left the country in 2019 — also confirmed the news at his weekly Mass in Miami, and was visibly moved.

« This is the power of the people of God’s prayers, » he said. « The criminal Sandinista dictatorship of (President) Daniel Ortega has not been able to defeat the power of God. »

The Nicaraguan government acknowledged the churchmen’s release in a Jan. 14 statement, which « deeply thanked » Pope Francis and Cardinal Pietro Parolin, Vatican secretary of state, « for the very respectful and discreet coordination carried out to make possible the Vatican trip of two bishops, fifteen priests and two seminarians. »

The statement continued, « They have been received by Vatican authorities, in compliance with agreements of good faith and good will, which seek to promote understanding and improve communication between the Holy See and Nicaragua, for peace and good. »

The statement struck an unusually respectful tone — far from the government’s frequent accusations of terrorism and coup mongering against church leaders, who attempted to unsuccessfully facilitate a national dialogue after mass protests erupted demanding Ortega’s ouster.

Catégories
Catholisisme

Vocation

(Second Sunday in Ordinary Time-Year B; This homily was given on January 13 & 14, 2024 at Saint Augustine Church in Providence, Rhode Island; See 1 Samuel 3:3-19 and John 1:35-42)


Catégories
Vie de l'église

Meditation: Am I doing it right?

I have a long history with meditation, starting with my years in the seminary. So you might think I know what it was and how to do it. You would be partially correct.

For me now, meditation is a spiritual exercise of quiet focus which sometimes generates peace, joy and love, offsetting anxiety, depression and fear. Prayer means I talk to God, and meditation implies that God has space to visit with me while I listen. That’s my intention at least, even if it is not always my result. 

There are occasional brief spurts of satisfying quiet when my mind stops churning out wayward thoughts, unfinished impulses or glimpses of what was or could be. Other times, my wild horse mind gallops into the horizon and I joyfully ride along. I finish my meditation wondering what went wrong, but am resolved to do it again tomorrow. Those brief bursts of satisfying quiet are intoxicating. 

I can easily look like I am meditating, with my body sitting up straight, my eyes closed, my arms and hands in an open position resting on my legs. 

There is a 23-by-19-inch handmade wooden table standing devoutly against the wall opposite my couch in my meditation room. On the table rests a lighted candle, a delicate Willow Tree figurine named « Remember, » a textured 6.5 wooden cross with RIO carved in its base and an elegant vase with blades of ripened wheat. 

Their visual harmony blesses the room and invites prayer and meditation. But I wonder if the sturdy pillow and heating pad on my back are welcome in that sacred setting.

Regardless of our physical setting, we all know that the core of meditation takes place inside our minds, spirit, psyche and everything else inside us. Following sound, age-proven advice, many of us follow our breathing process to clear our mind and open space for nothing — a nothing that invites God and generates peace, joy and love. 

In Matthew 6:5-8, Jesus says to « pray alone and to use few words … go into your room, close the door and pray to your father who is unseen. » That fits nicely with a listening approach to meditation. 

My curiosity urges me to ask: Do you really experience that creative and enriching empty space when you meditate and, if so, how often do you get there and how long can you stay there? 

To be honest, I don’t get there very often, and I can’t hold it very long when I do. But I do my daily 30 minutes in my meditation room quite faithfully. But am I doing it right?

For many decades, I stopped trying to meditate. Nothing was happening. I couldn’t quiet my mind, and I found other things to do with my time.

But then, Whisper, as I call her — the voice in my head or Spirit in my soul — insisted I try again, and I have learned over decades to follow her lead. 

I keep lighting my little candle on the meditation table and turning on my heating pad while I meditate, or think, or daydream, or solve problems, or repeat some formula prayers, or read a daily reflection, or breathe. It looks like I am meditating, and I tell myself that’s what I am doing. But who knows? Not me. 

Maybe that’s as good as it gets. My early experience with meditation, in the seminary, got me started on the wrong foot. We had a daily half hour in the chapel at 6:30am for meditation, and the night before, our spiritual director fed us a steady diet of unhelpful, old-fashioned theology about the crucified Jesus who suffered miserably and groaned bravely as he hung on an unmerited cross and bled martyred pain into my wicked soul. And I did that to him. My sins, large ones and little ones, congealed into the lashes that scourged his back, thorned his head and nailed his hands to the cross. 

My guilt was profound, pervasive and deserved. Relief, then, would come only if and when I truly and completely accepted my part in his suffering and death and humbly begged for his forgiveness. His mercy was real, but conditioned on the sincerity of my prayerful confession and resolution to never sin again. 

My meditation on these themes did not bring me peace, joy and love. 

My daily presence in those pews grew weary, so I resorted to other forms of « meditation. » Sometimes I fell asleep or head-studied a test scheduled for that day, or daydreamed about a basketball game later, or thought about my family. I knew nothing of clearing my mind, but this was 60 years ago. 

When the suffering Jesus became overwhelming, I tried to fill my mind with holy thoughts, correct doctrine, desirable virtues and willing obedience. That was meditation in those days: lots of thinking and internal praying. 

It didn’t dawn on me to just listen quietly. As I got older, I learned I was not doing it right, so I stopped it entirely.

In midlife, along comes Trappist Fr. Thomas Keating and centering prayer, transcendental meditation, Eastern spiritual philosophies and practices, mindfulness, secular meditation and self-awareness techniques, all promoting quiet personal time. Research studies indicated positive results for many practitioners. 

Controversies emerged among some traditional religions because these forms of meditation do not explicitly include key doctrinal beliefs of these religions. And where was the Jesus whose suffering our sins were responsible for? 

Proponents of these more expanded forms of meditation do maintain that this way of meditating is compatible with traditional teachings. That discussion continues.

Since my history with meditation is a mixed bag at best, I rethought my approach and experimented with a hybrid version that includes attempts at mind-clearing and listening as well as a brief daily reading from an Al-Anon source and ending with a version of the the serenity prayer written by my deceased daughter, which I pray out loud though no one else is there. 

There are times when my mind-clearing does not go too well, and I wind up thinking about a project I am working on, a confusion that needs clarification, a relationship that is troubled or exceptionally engaging or an inspiration I want to nourish. I do not always clear those ideas, but I let them flow if they bring peace, joy or love to my soul. 

I justify that approach because I interpret it as Whisper talking with me. Besides, the heating pad does help my back. 

So, is there a right or wrong way to meditate? Good question? In any case, I’m probably not the right person to answer it.