La Vida de Un Seminarista Misionero

¿…Que por qué Misionero?

…..Estos últimos dos años he viajado más que el resto de mi vida. Si, hace dos años entre al seminario de Maryknoll en Chicago, Il y desde entonces mi vocación misionera empezó. San Diego, Nueva York, Ossining, y Lima son algunos de los lugares que he visitado en este pequeño tiempo. Las alegrías son incontables. Mucho más la gente que encuentro en el camino que hace de este caminar un hermoso paisaje lleno de sonrisas. La vida misionera entonces, es en sí es un desprenderse de todo para llenarse de la providencia de Dios. Esta realidad—es una que tratamos de vivir ya que dentro de nuestras vidas, lo que llevamos en mano es solo una maleta de porta manos. No sabiendo que nos espera muchas veces emprendemos viaje. Nuestra tarea es verdaderamente llevar la buena nueva. Mientras más emprendo en esta vocación, mas entiendo que la buena nueva toma muchas formas. A veces compartiendo la historia de mi vocación en parroquias, a veces enseñando a leer a niños en el sur de Chicago, otras veces orando con grupos de oración en Lima, también escuchando las historias y testimonios y renovando la fe de jóvenes católicos aquí en Chicago, organizando retiros en San Diego, o simplemente siendo un amigo para muchos- la buena nueva se proclama.  Tal vez en una palabra, la vocación misionera se resume en: Enviado. Asi como Jesus fue enviado al mundo a salvarlo y redimirlo del pecado, asi también todo misionero camina en la tierra como extranjero y peregrino, siempre guiado por El Espiritu Santo que también se revela de tantas formas…asi nuestro caminar es nuestra alegría, nuestro caminar es nuestro destino, nuestro caminar es la buena nueva, nuestro caminar es nuestra vocación.

The Habit

The habit



People who are contemplating a religious life are simultaneously seeking to answer a call of identity. To be able to see yourself and have a clear image of who you are or want to be is essential in a matter of vocation. Many people approach their vocation by the image that they have in the profession being observed. For instance, the image the fire-fighter, policeman, doctor or lawyer have in their profession represent the work they do. In the same manner, for a long time the image of the religious person involved a habit, which for the most part included the major orders (Franciscan, Dominican, Benedicts, and Augustinian.) This image has been slowly dissipating among the religious community as lay people have been empowered and religious member have blended among the community. For the most part, the traditional orders have maintained their habits as a sign of identity but for many other religious communities the emphasis on the habit has decreased.

​The Church however, faces new challenges and new times. As vocations drop all over religious communities the conversation for habits arise. As new wave of young enthusiastic Catholics have arised who demand to come back to the roots of the religious vocation with their habits and traditions. They seek desperately to be able to identify themselves with their vocation among a society that they feel, has lost Christian values. For traditional orders as mention above this is not an issue. However, for Maryknoll and other congregations and societies who have evolved from this era, this topic is a matter of discussion today.

​As a Maryknoll Seminarian, this is a quiet an important issue. Maryknoll, The Society of Foreign Mission of America, has identified its charisma to be foreign mission. Maryknollers travel thousand of miles all over the world to blend with people, to lose our sense of comfort, language and tradition to be able to reach people in a very mutual and personal level. Maryknoll missioners all over the world have never given any significant importance to the habit. As a matter of fact it would appear to be something contradictory to the essence of mission. Today however, we face the dilemma of people interested far more in lay vocations than religious ones, we face young people seeking to embrace and revive lost values and a broken Church.

​There are many approaches to the habit among the Church. Still, we can agree that the religious habit has both limitations and attributions. It brings hope to those who discern a vocation (especially in today’s society), it brings identity for a set of beliefs, it brings a sense of community for a same cause. However me must always be aware of the exterior appearance of the habit as well, and make sure the identity we are seeking is grounded in Christ.

Metamorphosis

Metamorphosis

There are experiences in life that break you. When a man suffers in the spirit a metamorphosis takes place. The old self dies and takes with it all that constituted it. A new creature is created.

This new man is hard to described; for he no longer speaks like the old, he does not move like him, he does not think like him, he does not exists like him. This new man has with him new understanding and awe that the old did not. In the flesh and in the spirit a transition takes place. Suffering has the power to dwell in the innermost intimate place of the soul: it fractures it, to sprout something new. In the gestation of this new being, pain must be endured. This kind of pain is spoken of in Greek tragedies. The pain that we still hear today at childbirth, it is the same pain that we bear as we tear off the old skin out of our bones. The body must readjust to the new and lighter body. This one travels as if not touched by the world. Nothing disturbs him yet he also knows he cannot touch anything. The new body, as with that of an infant hears the world, tastes it, sees it, and smells it—but it does not move him. His new body through a thread lingers to the new soul which reminds him that he has been to dark places. The old man was not blind, but he did not see the world as the new one does. This one sees with time and at its leisure. Yet the new soul knows that which once was. It has memory. A shadow is cast upon it form the old creature he seems to barely recognize. It has its features, they call it by the same name, but it only seems to be an unfamiliar silhouette in the allies. But alas! It comes forward to hunt every now then. The old soul stings through memory its must malignant poison, that of melancholy. It does not bring the new creature into the moment of metamorphosis, but it reminds him that it used to be something else. The man is reminded of the stranger. At the taste of the poison being dazed by its effect the new creature thinks of himself as the stranger and that of the past as the man. However these flashes too wither. The new soul is reminded that it moves differently, it exists differently. It is reminded that it too will come the time of a new moment. A new metamorphosis.

Silencio

El dialogo que nace del silencio no necesita palabras.
Y es que darle sonido es quitarle su belleza, su pureza,
¿Pero que es lo se encuentra cuando nada ya esta?
Mirar a la vida y tener la valentía de deshacerse de todo—
Es que acumular años es acumular peso.
Que de donde eres, que idioma hablas, cuales son tus ideales,
Que si tienes afiliación religiosa, o cuanto tienes.
Nada de esto jamás toco el silencio.
Este no mira, no clasifica, no denomina, no pretende.
El silencio no busca, no se aferra, ni divide.
Y es que al callar, todo esto, que cargamos se desvanece.
Al fondo, muy adentro se encuentra un Yo que raramente se encuentra,
Escondido bajo tantas ideas, impulsos, categorías, y prejuicios.
Pero este, el silencio, espera.

Tanto ruido, tantas voces, tanto mundo,
Tantas ideas, caminos y rompecabezas,
Tanta conversación, de tanta gente, con tanto tiempo,
Todo padece, pero el silencio permanece.
Y en este Todo esta—en este no existe el tiempo ni el espacio,
Con el todo se tiene, al no tener nada.
Solo cuando todas estas voces, las cuales hemos hecho nuestras, callan,
Es que encontramos a este Yo- a nuestro silencio.

Voices

Voices

The mercenary wants to assassinate the philosopher,
While this one thinks and sets the pause.
The artist writes away and mocks at them,
The athlete does not have time to stop and discuss.
Behind them there is a clown—he is pitiful.
Voices interchange trying to overpower one another,
The philosopher is tired of nonsense, rationality sets in.
The artist keeps mocking, for trying to make sense of it all,
Push, hurry, there is more to do—the athlete keeps on running
But among them a child cries—all stare and look.
They can not move if the child weeps.
The mercenary has now fled,
The athlete grown tired—and the artist lacks inspiration
The philosopher has humbled,
And the child no longer cries.
Who is there now?
No one is.