"In reality, rather than abstract and singular suffering, we encounter concrete suffering in men and women: we see sickness reflected in their faces and bodies. I can never forget the women crying for the losses of their children especially when they know that the child could have been saved were it not for the lack of roads or of means of transportation or of money that made them arrive too late to the hospital. They roll themselves on the ground in mourning, and their voices transform into a sorrowful refrain of “God: why?” Fr. Enzo offers this reflection for us as we find ourselves confronted with and engaging another person's pain and illness. He says, "In sickness all relationships, with oneself, with others, with things and with God, undergo a profound change." It transforms us. "We may not know the patient we visit but we do know that it is ultimately the Christ we are helping." Click here for Fr. Enzo's reflection
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Yet, there are other “hurricanes” that are of greater concern to me. My thoughts go to Charlottesville, Myanmar, Las Vegas and Haiti where the violence has begun again, and for apparently different reasons in each locations. How should we respond to the violence that surrounds us? Last year on this very day, the Feast Day of St. Francis, Hurricane Matthew began to slam into the southwestern part of Haiti. I remember the winds blowing fiercely that morning and before Mass I decided to put a statue that I bought in Assisi on the altar. The statue is very unique, and depicts St. Francis taming the wolf of Gubbio ( a small town not far from Assisi). When I purchased it, I never could have imagined using the statue for a Hurricane. I bought it on a visit to Assisi with Raphael, as a sign and reminder to us that good will never prevail over evil and that, as St. Francis himself said: "all the darkness in the world cannot extinguish the light of a single candle". My thoughts were focused on wishing for peace in Haiti. The story of the saint and the wolf is that the wolf terrorized the inhabitants of the small Italian town. The wolf not only killed and devoured livestock but it began to attack the people. All attempts to kill the wolf failed and fear took over their hearts. St. Francis heard of this and decided to confront the wolf. The huge wolf rushed toward Francis to attack but he made the sign of the cross, called the wolf “brother” and commanded him in the name of God to stop terrorizing the town. Images came to mind of people running through clouds of dust after the water trucks with buckets in their hands hoping to catch water that might spill when the trucks went up hills. Last Sunday, while I was celebrating Mass, the words of this psalm struck me
calling my attention: “He raises the needy from the dust, lifts the poor from the ash heap”. (Psalm 113:8) At that moment, the images of people in the dusty and polluted roads of Port-au- Prince came to mind. While I recalled my own experiences there - the irritation of my eyes and throat, the dirt leaving a pattern around my sunglasses after riding on a motorbike through the streets - it paled in comparison to the images that came to mind of daily life among the citizens of that city. I recalled people walking with handkerchiefs and dust masks covering their mouths, parents carrying their children under the burning sun to the hospital in search for care, children walking to school barefoot, or in tattered sandals, or with their black dress shoes in a plastic bag to keep them shiny and clean, and of the shoe shiners located near schools and public places ready to remove the ever present dust for a few Gourdes. That same day at sunset I was coming back from the grocery store thinking that the day was over and already imagining to cook some pasta. I entered the gate and the receptionist ran towards me asking me to run inside to help a patient. I was quite confused and I was tempted to answer, "I’m not a doctor, what can I do?" But again the voices came back: wake up, do not fall asleep! In front of me was a man with an 11 year child on his side and another in his arms with his legs and head hanging down as if he had no life. Two weeks ago I was in the U.S.A. giving mission appeals, trying to bring awareness to the conscience of people on how may brothers and sisters are suffering the lack of the fundamental needs: clean water to drink, food to eat, clothes to dress, meds, education, etc. While I was telling true stories about what we live constantly, I felt the question arising: Is this real? Are these stories true? We all saw the tragic picture/video of the child rescued a few days ago in Syria and so many of us felt horrified, but did we need that image to realize what has been going on there for years? How many other Aleppo’s are burning in the world, at yet we continue to sleep, our consciences almost numb and unable to react. The philosopher Blaise Pascal, meditating on the Passion of Jesus, wrote: “Jesus will be in agony until the end of the world, we must not sleep during that time.” (Pensees) In April Fr. Rick Frechette was seriously injured in a motorcycle accident in Haiti as he returned from burial duties for the destitute dead. Two other members of his team were also injured. He is receiving excellent care and is recuperating from his injuries. We are including parts of his narrative describing his ordeal to remind us of the importance of perspective and affirming that the blessing and right for quality medical care is a human right deserved by everyone. Dear Friends, Today marks two weeks since the motorcycle accident on the way from Titanyin to Tabarre (after burial of the destitute dead), left myself and two other members of our team wounded. Look at the richness of the generosity toward myself when I was in urgent need (a priest suddenly a penitent, a doctor suddenly a patient, and a strong leader suddenly a fallen team member). I was airlifted from Haiti to Miami… I was give first class treatment and a private room … My CT scans and case were reviewed even by a trauma physician of the White House … This was all just frosting on the cake, the cake being all the efforts on every side to organize the saving of my life (from hemorrhagic shock). St Paul was knocked off his horse, and remained blind until he could see in a new way, that was useful to the building of God's reign. I was knocked off this motorcycle, and began right away re-seeing many things which had become somewhat dormant over these years, yet were part of my original calling to try to be useful to the building of God's reign. Dormant yet reawakened. As I was cared for so graciously, I often pictured the other two injured team members, Emmanuel and Lenz. I pictured them in their shanty shacks, lying on the floor, far from water and toilettes and help if they needed it. I called them often to see how I could send medicines, some clothes, have them reevaluated. My own great care made me aware of their limited care, and eager to try to fill in the gaps that i could. I missed for them what I had for myself. I am glad I had it. I miss it for them. I am more committed than ever to try to even the field of blessing, to make it reach the poorest of people. My own great care made me picture the children at St Damien's Hospital, the adults at St Luke Hospital, the old people in Cite Soleil whose physician I am, the sick poor I care for at Sans Fils and St Joseph. I would see them in my hours and hours of sleep. Wishing for all of them the same courtesy, the same first class treatment, the same kind greetings and promise of prayer, that I have known. It is fully it's own powerful medicine, I have been held up by love and its healing force. I am more committed to spreading this powerful medicine as well, to the people far from this blessing. This time of convalescence is a great satisfaction to me: it is the proof that I have set up strong and independent leaders and teams in Haiti, who know what to do and don't need me to be there. If I had been more seriously injured in the accident, or killed, there is no part of the institutional work of NPFS or St Luc programs that are dependent on my person. For sure I bring a certain richness to the work in Haiti, as does each person. For sure I have my own work to do in Haiti:
I am eager to get back to this, my work. Thank you for your help, your concern, your friendship, your prayers. Be sure of mine for you. Fr Rick Frechette |
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