As some of you might remember, my very first entry on this blog was about priest martyr Héctor Gallego, whom I cited as a strong personal role model. This time around, I come to you with yet another prominent Latin American Catholic figure, who was also known for standing on the side of those who were poor and marginalized, on the 42nd anniversary of his passing. The title already gives out it's Saint Óscar Romero, archbishop of San Salvador, capital of El Salvador, well-known for his sermons in defense of social justice and peace in the context of the Salvadoran Civil War.
Óscar Arnulfo Romero y Galdames was born on August 15th, 1917, in Ciudad Barrios, located in the San Miguel department in the eastern part of El Salvador. He was the second of eight children, six brothers and two sisters, born to his parents Santos and Guadalupe. From an early age, his father taught him the skill of carpentry and he proved to be a great aprentice; however, the young Romero soon decided he wanted to pursue priesthood, something which came as no surprise of those who knew him. He entered minor seminary at the age of just 13, but had to briefly return home when his mother became ill, a time during which he worked in a gold mine with two of his brothers, before being able to go back three months later. He then enrolled in the national seminary in San Salvador, and eventually completed his studies in the Gregorian University in Rome, receiving a Licenciate in Theology in 1941. Finally, after having to wait another year until he had reached the minimum required age, he was ordained in Rome on April 4th, 1942. He chose to remain in Italy and get a Doctorate in Theology, but before he finished it he was summoned back home from Italy by his bishop. On the route home, during a stopover in Cuba, he and a good friend who was travelling with him were detained by the Cuban police, likely for having come from Fascist Italy, and spent several months in prison.
Once he had returned to El Salvador, in 1943, Romero was first assigned to serve as a parish priest in the city of Anamorós, in La Unión, but then moved back to the city of San Miguel, capital of his native province of the same name, to help finish the construction of the cathedral, which took 18 years. During his time in San Miguel, Romero promoted various apostolic groups, started an Alcoholics Anonymous group and did many things in favor of his community. But by January of 1966, he was so emotionally and physically exhausted frrom working for over two decades that he decided to take a retreat, where he began visiting a psychiatrist. It was then when he was diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder, a little-known fact which had obviously taken a massive toll on him. Once he was feeling better and returned to his duties later that year, he was chosen to be Secretary of the Bishops Conference for El Salvador. Then, on April 25th, 1970, Romero was appointed an auxiliary bishop for the Archdiocese of San Salvador, and four years later, On October 15th, 1974, main Bishop of the Diocese of Santiago de María, a poor, rural region that was plagued with extreme poverty and violence.
On February 22nd, 1977, Romero was appointed Archbishop of San Salvador. Just one month later, Father Rutilio Grande, a fierce advocate against state-sactioned violence and one of Romero's good friends, was murdered by a paramilitary right-wing group along with two laymen. This marked the beginning of a brutal repression launched by the country's military and led by so-called "death squads" against members of the Catholic Church who dared to raise their voices against the social injustice. Immediately after the murders, Romero went to the temple where the three bodies were being laid out and celebrated a Mass. The next day, he declared that he would no longer attend any government engagements until the crimes were investigated, and when the authorities refused to do so, the new Archbishop chose to step away from any state ceremony for the next three years.
The tragic event marked a before and after in Romero's life. Because he had always been staunchly conservative, his appointment had been a letdown for many progressive priests, who feared that he would go against Liberation Theology and the preferential option for the poor. However, the loss of his beloved friend made him realize that he could not remain silent about what was happening. As he later stated, "when I looked at Rutilio lying there dead I thought, 'If they have killed him for doing what he did, then I too have to walk the same path".
Later that year, Romero traveled to meet Pope John Paul II, in an attempt to ask the Vatican to condemn the military regime for their crimes against humanity, but the Pope refused citing that maintaining unity was more important. Eventually, on October 15th, the military regime was overthrown when the Revolutionary Government Junta (JRG) came to power, amidst what was now a massive wave of human rights abuses by both paramilitary right-wing groups and the government. This escalation of violence would eventually lead to the eruption of the Salvadoran Civil War the following year. As archbishop, Romero became an outspoken critic of the dictatorship, denouncing the continuing human rights violations against his fellow Salvadorans in his homilies and advocating for the victims of political violence. His Sunday sermons, which were broadcast on radio across the country, were estimated to have the biggest audience of any program nationwide, and he soon became well-known all over the world for his tireless activism. Each week, he would list all disappearances, tortures and murders that had taken place, both on radio and on the diocesan weekly paper, Orientación, which made him an unlikely source of information to the public while the press was being censored. He also wrote a long open letter to U.S. President Jimmy Carter in February of 1980, warning that his plan to increase American military aid in support of the new dictatorship would only make things worse, but to no avail.
On Sunday, March 23rd, Romero delivered his most powerful sermon yet, in which he addressed the men of the Salvadoran army, appealing to them in a desperate effort to end the violence. His words were:
"I would like to appeal, in a special way, to the men of the army. And specifically to the bases of the National Guard, of the police, of the barracks... Brothers, they are from our same people. You are killing your own peasant brothers. And before a man gives an order to kill, the law of God, which says: ‘Thou shalt not kill’, must prevail. No soldier is obliged to obey an order against the Law of God. No one has to fulfill an immoral law. It is time for you to recover your conscience, and to obey your conscience rather than the order of sin. The Church, defender of the rights of God, of the Law of God, of human dignity, of the person, cannot remain silent in the face of so much abomination. We want the government to take the fact that the reforms are useless, if they are stained with so much blood, seriously. In the name of God, then, and in the name of this long-suffering people, whose cries rise to heaven more tumultuous each day, I beg you, I plead with you, I order you in the name of God: Stop the repression."
The next day, Romero went to celebrate Mass at the chapel of the city’s Hospital de la Divina Providencia (Hospital of the Divine Providence), which was church-run and focused on caring for terminal patients. As he finished his sermon, he walked a few steps to the center of the altar. At that moment, a gunman emerged from a red car that stopped in front of the chapel, and fired between one and two shots. Romero was struck by a bullet straight in the heart, which killed him instantly. The car them quickly drove away as several witnesses rushed to the Archbishop’s aid, but there was nothing they could do. He was 62 years old at the time of his death. The funeral mass was attended by over 250,000 people, but was interrupted by smoke bombs exploding and shots being fired into the crowd from nearby buildings, an act most likely committed by government security forces. Between 30 and 50 people were killed in the massacre, while Romero’s body was quickly buried in a crypt beneath the cathedral of San Salvador. It was so massive that American priest John Dear has called Romero’s funeral “the largest demonstration in Salvadoran history”.
Following his death, the following of Romero’s teachings only continued to grow. He is often considered to be the unofficial patron Saint of the Americas, and became the subject of numerous books, films and even songs. His story is told in the song “El Padre Antonio y el Monaguillo Andrés” (“Father Antonio and Altar Boy Andrés”), released by Panamanian salsa legend Rubén Blades in 1984, where his name is changed to Antonio Tejeira. He was beatified by Pope Francis on May 23rd, 2015, and finally canonized on October 14th, 2018. In addition to his veneration in the Church, in 2010 the United Nations General Assembly proclaimed March 24th, the day of his assassination, as the International Day for the Right to the Truth Concerning Gross Human Rights Violations and for the Dignity of Victims.
As for his influence on me, I remember there being a poster of him in my house when I was little, unaware of who he was. But now that I’m grown, he is one of the people responsible for dragging me back into the Church after close to a decade of absence and questioning my faith and beliefs. In an era where all prominent Church figures seem to do is hyper focus on reinforcing “sexual morality” and “traditional values” while staying out of potentially political affairs, revisiting Romero’s life and legacy is a refreshing reminder that some people are still willing to step out of their comfort zone, even at their own risk, to defy those in power and defend those who are oppressed. And THAT is the Church I know and love.
¡MONSEÑOR ROMERO VIVE!
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