Padre Tilo: Call to Calvary

“It is dangerous to be a Christian in our world. It is almost illegal to be a Catholic in our world, where the very preaching of the gospel is subversive and where priests are exiled for preaching it!” (Rutilio Grande, SJ)

“The code of the Kingdom of God is love…love, without boundary lines, exalted and offered in Jesus. It is the love of brothers, which breaks down every sort of barrier and boundary and which must overcome hatred itself. We do not hate anyone; we love even those Cains.” (Rutilio Grande, SJ)

One of the aspects that I love about the Casa program is that it incorporates the history and context of the country, the region, and the lives of the people into not only the courses, but also in our spirituality nights or community nights, in our gatherings with Salvadoran students from the Programa Becario, in our praxis sites, etc. And at this moment, it seems only appropriate to speak about one of these aspects: the prayer said prior to every meal, which speaks to the world, but one should not forget the context in which it emerged from – El Salvador in the 1970s – and from who it emerged – Fr. Rutilio Grande, SJ.

Vamos todos al banquete,
a la mesa de la creación;
cada cual con su taburete
tiene un puesto y una misión.

Hoy me levanto muy temprano;
ya me espera la comunidad;
voy subiendo alegre la cuesta,
voy en busca de tu amistad.

Venimos desde Soyapango,
San Antonio de la Zacamil,
Mexicanos, ciudad Delgado,
Santa Tecla y de La Bernal.

Dios invita a todos los pobres
a esa mesa común por la fe,
donde no hay acaparadores
y a nadie le falta el con qué.

Dios nos manda a hacer de este mundo
una mesa donde haya igualdad,
trabajando y luchando juntos,
compartiendo la propiedad.

On Monday, March 12^th, we celebrated the 35^th anniversary of the death of Padre Grande, a Salvadoran Jesuit priest, who gave his life to his pueblo – this world, a region experiencing such oppression and violence, his birth country of El Salvador, and, first and foremost, the common man and woman. Padre Grande served and accompanied the poor – recognizing their right to learn about their realities, to organize, to be human beings.

I first want to say that I have been fascinated and intrigued by Padre Grande or Padre Tilo, as many who knew him called him (which I will refer to him now one in this reflection), for quite some time – since 2008 to be exact. On my second service immersion trip to Honduras with U of D Jesuit High School in the summer of 2008, we spent a weekend in San Salvador where we visited the sites of the six Jesuit martyrs, the housekeeper and her daughter at the Jesuit Residence of the UCA, the museum of Centro Romero, and the chapel where Monseñor Romero was murdered, his residence and his tomb underneath the Cathedral. It was on this trip where I learned for the first time about El Salvador’s terrible and brutal civil war that led to the deaths of not only members of the revolutionary front, but also innocent men, women and children, including various religious men and women. It was also this experience (combining my experiences in the San Pedro Sula garbage dump community in Honduras as well as my weekend in El Salvador visiting some sites of the martyrs) when I began to reflect deeper on my faith and my vocation. Thus, I look back today citing that this experience as a whole in the summer of 2008 serves at the cornerstone of responding to God’s call to become Catholic and also lies at the heart of my vocation.

So where does Padre Tilo fit in? Well, Padre Tilo was the first religious and Jesuit to be killed during these horrific years. A few minutes before 6 p.m. on his way to preside at Mass in El Paisnal, the jeep that Padre Tilo was driving was gunned down by various men causing the vehicle to go off the main road and placing bullets in several parts of the bodies of Padre Tilo and an old man, Don Manuel, and a young boy, Rutilio Lemus, who were accompanying Padre Tilo from Aguilares to El Paisnal for the 7 p.m. Mass. Three children, who were picked up along the way to El Paisnal, were not harmed by the bullets, and were told to leave by the men who killed Padre Tilo, Don Manuel, and Rutilio Lemus.

On the night before, March 12^th, 2012 (the 35^th anniversary of Padre Tilo’s death), I read a chapter from “The Voice of Blood: Five Christian Martyrs of Our Time,” written by William O’Malley, SJ. In his book, O’Malley examines the lives of five Jesuits who ultimately sacrificed their lives for others and for the Reign of God. Interestingly enough, these five Jesuits were killed during the last three months of 1976 and the first three months of 1977. The chapter I read was about Padre Tilo, providing some information on his childhood, his vocation story, times of struggle and doubt during his formation years, his conversion experiences, and ultimately his work in Aguilares that led to him being killed and deemed “subversive” and a “communist” by those who found his work with the poor to be a “negative” effect to their lives and their work.

Rather than going in-depth into this chapter, which I read almost immediately after I received the book, I will emphasis a few points made by Fr. O’Malley about Padre Tilo.

First. I think there is a common assumption that life-changing, and ground-breaking figures have it all figured out. Padre Tilo, who is said to have partially led to the conversion experience of Monseñor Oscar Arnulfo Romero and is still remembered today in the hearts, thoughts, and words of thousands of Salvadorans, struggled immensely. On the days leading up to his successive ordination as subdeacon, deacon and priest, Padre Tilo experienced “the greatest personal crisis of his life,” wondering if he had even received his “minor orders” of poverty, chastity, and obedience, which he professed at his First Vows, in a worthy manner. These doubts, among others, haunted Padre Tilo and in general he struggled in these years of the main formation process.

Second. Faith that does justice. His conversion experiences highlight his relationship with Christ and his desire to be more like Christ, always striving and realizing that he is not perfect and that is ok. His first conversion took place in Brussels as the Church went through a conversion process during Vatican II. His second conversion resulted from his experiences with the poor of El Salvador and his work in compiling a report on the social and economic realities of the poor, which constituted the majority of the Church in El Salvador. Another way of explaining his conversion experiences is to note his transition from faith that was experienced in the Church and in one’s immediate surroundings, lacking concern for the greater community and world, and becoming a faith that does justice – that preaches the Good News to the poor, oppressed, and victimized, and stands up for injustices no matter what the cost.

Third. Padre Tilo believed in the Church of the poor. As a professor of pastoral theology at the seminary in San Salvador, Padre Tilo brought his students, and future priests, and the faces of the poor to the same table – seminarians would be working and living in the barrios and shantytowns; he would not allow for a misconceived image of priests walking around the rectory in their robes, reading books and having tea with the women from the parish on Friday afternoons. “If they were going to follow the call of the priesthood, then let it be the call to Calvary, not the call to aloof and subsidized privilege” (O’Malley, 14). Responding to a religious vocation meant more than anything, to give one’s life fully and completely to God and to the Reign of God. As they say in Spanish, entregado a Dios.

Four. In one of his reflections, Padre Tilo noted that “I ambition only the service of God and nothing else.” Padre Tilo deeply desired to serve and love God – and for him, that was through el pueblo salvadoreño (the Salvadoran people). In September 1972, Padre Tilo moved to Aguilares with a team of four Jesuits to, first, “immerse themselves in the lives of the peasants;” second, to increase the level of awareness among the peasants, or in the words of Paulo Freire – conscientización; and third, to assist them in understanding their lives in light of the “liberating message of the Gospel” (33). It would ultimately be this work that ended in the horrific, disgusting death of Padre Tilo and two community members. Padre Tilo understood that his vow of poverty signified “permanent instability” – never knowing what would happen when he helped the peasants realize their social, political, and economic realities, or when he spoke directly against the military and government for their oppression of the poor and marginalized (40). And how was Padre Tilo able to continue working in pursuit of the Reign of God, without letting fear, temptations, and a desire for comfort and safety overcome him and his work? I wish I could hear his answer to this, but I feel that Padre Tilo would respond saying that he did not have an option when the poor were being killed and forced in such degrading marginalization, and that his deepest desire was to serve God, striving to be like Christ, accepting to the ‘call to Calvary’.

Upon realizing that a truck was speeding up behind his jeep on their way to El Paísnal, Padre Tilo understood that his time had come, and responded to the five people in his jeep, “we must do what God asks of us.” Shortly after, bullets entered the jeep, striking the bodies of Padre Tilo and Don Manuel multiple times. After the jeep veered into a ditch, the men surrounded the jeep, opening the door to three speechless, nerve-wrecked children who were allowed to leave. As the three kids ran away, a final shot was heard, striking young Rutilio Lemus in the forehead.

As I read this chapter of O’Malley’s book, there were points when I was drawn to tears. This is not the first time that I have heard about Rutilio Grande or his disturbing death and the death of Don Manuel and little Rutilio. I am still trying to understand the meaning behind my emotions and thoughts in regards to reading about Padre Tilo and learning more about him and his life. Nevertheless, I believe that part of my emotions stem from how much I felt I was present on March 12, 1977 on the road from Aguilares to El Paisnal, witnessing their deaths.

Since my first encounter with El Salvador in 2008, I recall learning about Padre Tilo and how his death led to the conversion of Monseñor Romero, the Archbishop of San Salvador, who after the death of one of his closest, if not closet, friends, decided to dedicate his life and give himself completely and fully (entregar) to the Salvadoran people, especially the poor and oppressed. These two individuals, in addition to several other Jesuits who gave their lives, have played such an important role in my faith and my deepest desires.

Thirty-five years later, Padre Tilo continues to remind us that we are all called to do that which God asks of us.

Sources:

Carranza, Salvador. Conversation with Jesuit priest who served in Aguilares with Rutilio Grande, SJ.

O’Malley, William. The Voice of Blood: Five Christian Martyrs of Our Time. Orbis Books: Maryknoll, New York. 1995.

Photos from: 

http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1426/1041589842_e91f11c97e.jpg

http://altahoradelanoche.blogspot.com/2007/03/rutilio-grande-30-aos-de-su-martirio.html

https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2iDgHSg9CO0kZR8Zy46g5TqEYaRrm9Xd0n8bQVUYM-NGuIIQwtKsdqqAQuzj6g4-uwvI44O6iaFsCJFnlJI04CyFRDZBcK1k2BUOvml_DH3cnfs4wKXgSraizanoj97MlDSI3ymghhF91/s1600/Rutilio.png

http://www.romerotrust.org.uk/pictures/resize.php?image=Episcopal%20Ordination/MOAR_9.jpg&nh=400&nw=500&ah=400&aw=500&t=jpg