Christmas Has Begun In El Salvador

Nine priests, a bishop, and a deacon have been killed by the repression in El Salvador. Following are the words of a brother of one of the martyred priests, excerpted from a conversation with members of Sojourners' staff. When this article appeared, he was in exile studying for the priesthood and requested that his name be withheld.--The Editors

The situation in my country is very grave. The bishops have expelled all the seminarians simply because of their participation in a May 1 demonstration in solidarity with the workers. Any priest who becomes involved in the social needs of the people, in the Christian communities, is accused of being a subversive.

The story of the church in El Salvador has been one of bishops who were chosen because they were friends of the military and of the powerful families who dominate the country and want to guarantee that the church will support them. Bishop Oscar Romero was chosen as archbishop of San Salvador because it was believed that he too would have that mentality. He was one of the first bishops who opposed the priests who were trying to incarnate Vatican II; he was one of the ones most filled with fear. But his conversion to the people of the church made him change.

The conservative bishops feared that those of us in the diocese of San Salvador would pervert the others. And so they removed us from the area.

One very close friend of mine was later assassinated by the military. He and I loved one another like brothers. I can give witness to his beautiful gospel and pastoral work among the people. But the authorities and the bishops did not trust him.

In the country where he was studying, the church esteemed him very much and gave him all the vestments for his ordination. But he came back to El Salvador and gave the vestments to my sister and said, weeping, "Give these to your brother. I will not be ordained here. I'm afraid of threats that have been made to me."

The next day he went about inviting people to a Eucharist that was going to be held in one of the villages. The people had begged him to do his first Mass in their village, and they were in the process of building a little chapel which they wanted to complete for it.

A professional assassin came with about 50 men, among them members of the National Guard, and surrounded him. They made him lie down on the ground and shot him; then they chopped up his head with a machete. And the people had to gather it all up in bags. Now he is known as a martyr who gave witness to his gospel commitment to the very last minute.

I have the last letter from him, a beautiful one, in which he wrote me: "We who have shared so many joys, sorrows, and everything that life has given us have something else that we must share. And this is going to be the best thing: to share our priesthood. A priesthood in favor of the people, in the same way that we shared with the people during our vacations from seminary when we identified with them. And that will be the definitive form when we're both ordained." Those were his last words in his last letter. He has given me strength to continue. Even though I will not be able to share with him in this life, I feel that he is with me, accompanying me in my own priestly commitment.

There is a process going on within the church. And some are going to be left out. If you do not work with the people in the process moving forward, you are left behind. It won't matter if you get out your documents and say, "I'm a bishop" or whatever else. If you don't walk with the people, you are not recognized as church.

There is no other Bishop Romero. Bishop Rivera y Damas, who is his replacement, is closest to Bishop Romero's beliefs. He is doing what he can. But there is no one who could completely represent Bishop Romero's presence. Still, as we learn how to become more incarnate among the people, how to respond to the needs, the process moves forward. We must move forward with hope that someday change will come. But many will die.

I was already out of the country when Bishop Romero was killed. I wanted to go to his funeral, but it was not possible. People told me that because of the dangers I would probably be killed at the airport or made to disappear. I know that my people feel a tremendous loss and emptiness. He was a voice that called out in the desert; yet people heard him, and the poor were walking with him.

Many priests saw in Bishop Romero a great leader, but they really hadn't allowed themselves to think that he might be killed. They had to see Jesus Christ in Bishop Romero and realize that Jesus Christ would still be with them even if Bishop Romero were killed. It is very difficult. But he has given strength to more people who commit themselves to the struggle.

In my own brother, I saw a conversion process of his growing identification with the people. He went from wearing his habit and living with priests to removing his robes and living among the people. He was one of the first priests who began to do renovations within the Eucharist, giving life to the Mass, helping the people to participate more. He wanted the people to know that this Eucharist was their own. He began to do conscientization work among the catechists.

Each parish had to pay taxes to the bishop for the bishop's palace and to pay its priest's salary. My brother refused to collect those taxes. He taught classes in the high school to support himself. He began to work with Christian groups so that the people might live their Christianity in community.

The bishop pulled him out of that parish and sent him to a small village in an area which is having heavy repression right now. And that's where he began again to work, the same way he had begun in the other parishes.

Every year the bishop takes trips to the parishes and confirms several thousand children, for each of whom he gets paid. The bishop was making a great deal of money at the expense of the people, and my brother said to him that he could no longer confirm tiny children, but only those of an age that they knew what confirmation meant.

They took my brother's parish away from him then, and they never gave him another. The bishop finally permitted him to go to the diocese of San Salvador; this was before Bishop Romero came in. The priest in the parish with whom he was supposed to collaborate used to do many Masses each day and charge a high price according to how much light, how much organ music, and how many candles were used. It was a commercialization of the sacraments and the Eucharist. My brother objected.

Finally, the priest told him that a replacement for him was coming within a week. I was living with my brother in the same room at the time and we were told to leave, but we had no money to rent a house. One day I arrived at the room and found that the wall of our house had been knocked down all over the beds and everything we had.

My brother had great clarity about the meaning of the events that were happening around us. He had a special quality. He said that priests could not identify with one particular group of social action or political organization, but had to identify with all the people.

Bishop Romero called him and asked him to share with others his clarity, to share with other priests about how the church could be led through a process of identification with the people like ours. The day before my brother's assassination, he was at a conference speaking on the topic that a blind person cannot lead other blind people: "If I do not understand my priestly mission, I cannot be a priest for my people. I will be a politician, or I'll be just any person, but not a true priest. And so as not to be blind, I need to have clarity about the gospel message. And I have to make that clarity present in the current circumstances."

He had many problems with the government, who accused him of being a communist, and with the bishops, who denounced and mocked him. There were clergy who accused him of profaning the Eucharist because he did not wear his vestments. But he never went away; he never ran from dialogue with his enemies.

Bishop Romero told my brother to go on identifying with the people as he had. He felt very badly about my brother's death. I'll never forget the day of the assassination. I was about 30 kilometers from the scene when I was told, about an hour afterward, that my brother had been killed. I quickly drove there in a car, listening to the diocesan radio.

The first thing Bishop Romero did when I met him right after the killing was to give me a huge hug and say, "I know you're afraid."

And I responded, "I am afraid."

He said, "But we have to be clear that the Christian in our time has to give a different kind of answer than in the past. Whereas before we responded with prayer, now we must respond with prayer and action. And we must run the risk of assassination."

Bishop Romero's concern was for me. He was trying to give me courage and comfort, telling me to continue on for the priesthood: "There is a spot for you. Please come and fill the place of your brother."

These are things we do not forget. I wrote to him from, my exile, and he was always encouraging me to carry on.

My brother drew close to all types of people--teachers, students, people from the slum areas, young people. He formed communities. His greatest concern was that, with all the problems of the Salvadoran church, we not forget about our personal sins.

Being conscious of personal sin and structural sin--this was his work. Identifying himself with the poor--this was his conversion. He identified to the death.

Many people asked, "Why did they kill this man?" The only answer is that if you are persecuted, it is because you are doing something that is not liked by the powerful of the country. When you love the poor, you receive persecution.

Now the word is: Be among the least and evangelize from there, be evangelized there, and speak to the whole society out of that posture. Christ spoke from out of poverty to all. It was through his meeting with the poor that he reached out to everyone. He spoke to the young rich man, inviting him to become poor with the poor.

Christmas has begun in El Salvador. Christ has been giving himself to El Salvador through the priests, through Bishop Romero, through the lay people, the religious. This being born of Christ within their hearts, identifying with the poor, this is that Christmas--that birth that has brought us this Lent, this time of passion and suffering, this Holy Week we live. First there was the birth of this liberating Christ in the heart of the people. And then the preparation; and today a great suffering, another birth process. The resurrection will be its fruit.

Bishop Romero once said, "Something will come out, a model, which is not entirely perfect or complete, but it will be a moving forward. And we as Christians, as the church, must be the salt, giving flavor and being deeply committed even if death surrounds us."

This Christmas, hopefully this Christmas, may be celebrated with fullness; perhaps with weeping, but with joy. May it be that our people are no longer massacred, and may those of us who are outside be once again within--with our friends, with our families. We await the resurrection, and we are seeing it even now.