What Oscar Romero Means to Me

By my count Oscar Romero was murdered thirty one years ago. I’m not the biggest fan of Noam Chomsky, but what he said in this video clip also using scenes from a movie about the archbishop, are simply true.

I think the question this raises is how do we live in this world of suffering?

I think the answer is simple enough, although rather hard to do.

We need to look into our own hearts.

And this is no easy enterprise. Those who think otherwise have never actually tried.

I know I would rather think of myself as a somewhat more modest version of the archbishop, maybe a little naive, but basically your all around good guy. And ready to step up when necessary.

Sadly, my investigations into my own heart and mind have not revealed that person.

And may I suggest the archbishop probably isn’t who you are, either.

Actually, Oscar Romero probably wasn’t the saint we think of today, when we think of Oscar Romero, either.

The call is to honestly look.

We need to witness ourselves, watch the currents of our minds and hearts. When we do we see how we can so easily be the perpetrators, just as easily as we might be the victims. And, often, by indifference and complicity, frankly, those of us who live in relative affluence often must, in honest looking, come to count ourselves as those who benefit from the labors of those who would keep systems that oppress many but serve us in place at whatever cost…

What we can learn in this enterprise is frightening.

The war mostly rages in our own hearts.

The murderer is you, is me. Our hearts are on fire with constantly rising anger, endless longing, and an ocean of self-serving certainties.

But that’s not the end of the matter. If we keep looking we also find how fortunately, blessedly, there is more to us, as well.

We are also vast as all space, connected more intimately than words can say.

Elsewhere I’ve described that more, or if you prefer, less, the metaphors all melt in the face of the great reality.

We are the murderers. We’re also the victims. We’re also those who can do something about it.

Knowing all this, or at least on the road to knowing this, we are then called to reach out.

In small ways.

In bigger ways.

To act.

To make some difference.

To make the world just a little better for our having been here.

Does that seem too much to ask of a life?