A few weeks ago, you probably came across them on social media. A family, a guitar, a porch, and everyone singing at the top of their lungs. <\/p>\n
They are the Ca\u00f1o family, and the video ended up becoming one of those strange phenomena that suddenly seem to be everywhere. The song is called \u201cDama y Vagabundo\u201d (Lady and the Tramp) and belongs to Bromas Aparte, a Madrid-based group that originally released it in 2015 and later recorded a new version with Ana Mena. <\/p>\n
But what stuck with me wasn’t so much the song. It was a phrase. <\/p>\n
\u201cSometimes I forget\u2026\u201d<\/strong><\/p><\/blockquote>\n
These days, as I participate in the Augustinian Recollect Missionary Synod in Rio de Janeiro, that phrase has returned to my mind several times. Because sometimes I forget. <\/p>\n
Sometimes I forget that I am a missionary<\/h2>\n
Perhaps because I’ve ended up associating the word \u201cmission\u201d with specific places. L\u00e1brea. Sierra Leone. Cuba. Maraj\u00f3. Casanare. Indonesia. Philippines. And then I hear the Prior General tell us that mission is not a geography, but an identity. <\/p>\n
\u201cThe problem is not geography; the problem is the fire.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
And I remember that I don’t need to cross an ocean to be a missionary. I need to burn with zeal. Sometimes I forget. <\/p>\n
Sometimes I forget to listen<\/h2>\n
I have to admit that over the past few years I’ve read quite a bit about synodality. I’ve worked on listening methodologies. I’ve participated in pastoral processes. I’ve even adapted LEGO\u00ae Serious Play\u00ae to facilitate conversations in the Spirit. <\/p>\n
But knowing a methodology is one thing, and living it is quite another. These days I’m discovering something fundamental: listening is hard.<\/strong> <\/p>\n
Truly listening means not preparing your response while the other person is speaking. It means accepting that my brother or sister might be seeing something I don’t. <\/p>\n
It means leaving space for what I hear to challenge me. And, even more difficult, it means admitting that the Holy Spirit might choose to speak to me through someone who thinks differently than I do. Sometimes I forget. <\/p>\n
Sometimes I forget where I come from<\/h2>\n
Bishop Alejandro Casta\u00f1o spoke to us about our first missionaries. About Saint Thomas of Villanova. About Saint Alonso de Orozco. About Saint John of Sahag\u00fan. About Saint Ezekiel Moreno. <\/p>\n
Men who asked similar questions to ours in completely different circumstances. We are new. <\/p>\n
We have new languages, new media, new problems. We talk about digital evangelization, artificial intelligence, social networks, new pastoral structures, and new models of mission. <\/p>\n
But we live by a tradition. Others walked before us. Others made mistakes. Others were afraid. Others left their land. Others gave their lives. Sometimes I forget. <\/p>\n
Sometimes I forget that God arrived first<\/h2>\n
One of the people who surprised me most these days was Friar Russell Cordero. He has been a missionary in Sierra Leone and is now in Indonesia. In his homily, he reminded us of something that seems obvious, but which we can forget with extraordinary ease: God was already there before the missionary arrived. <\/p>\n
We are not messiahs. We don’t carry God in a suitcase to introduce Him into places where He hadn’t yet managed to arrive. He was there. In that culture. In those people. In that history. <\/p>\n
Mission also begins by taking off your sandals and learning to discover Him. Sometimes I forget. <\/p>\n
Sometimes I forget to leave the jug behind<\/h2>\n
On the first day, we hadn’t even started working. We prayed. <\/p>\n
And before the Blessed Sacrament, the Samaritan woman appeared. The question was simple: what jugs do we need to leave behind? There are obvious jugs. But there are others that one learns to carry so well that they end up forgetting how heavy they are. <\/p>\n
My certainties. My positions. My habits. My ideas. My way of doing things. My successes. My wounds. My fears. Even that very dangerous \u201cit’s always been done this way.\u201d <\/p>\n
Perhaps walking lightly behind Jesus means leaving some things by the well. Sometimes I forget. <\/p>\n
Sometimes I forget that we need others<\/h3>\n
The motto of our last General Chapter was a single word: Together.<\/strong><\/p>\n
Over the years, we’ve used it a lot. But these days I’m beginning to understand better what it means. <\/p>\n
Together doesn’t just mean all being in the same photograph. Nor sitting around the same table. Nor participating in the same project. <\/p>\n
Walking together means discovering that I need the other. The religious and the layperson. The young and the old. The young ARY member and the Secular Fraternity member. The one who lives on a mission and the one who works in an office. The one who thinks like me and the one who makes me uncomfortable. <\/p>\n
This morning we listened to Ren\u00e9 Gonz\u00e1lez Regorigo. He was an Augustinian Recollect religious, today he is a family man and works for ARCORES Brazil. His life remains deeply connected to this family and to the service of its missions. <\/p>\n
As I listened to him, I thought that perhaps for too long we have spoken of \u201cour mission\u201d and of the laypeople who \u201chelp us.\u201d<\/p>\n
Perhaps we need to change the pronouns. The mission is ours. Everyone’s. Sometimes I forget. <\/p>\n
Sometimes I forget to look to heaven<\/h3>\n
Bishop Casta\u00f1o reminded us in one of his homilies: <\/p>\n
\u201cWe must turn our gaze towards heaven.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
Because we can talk a lot about structures, projects, strategic plans, formation, economy, communication, pastoral care, and mission.<\/p>\n
Everything is necessary. But we can end up working so much for the things of God that we forget about God. We can even turn mission into a profession. And then I need to remember why all this started. <\/p>\n
Why one day I said yes. Why I left certain things. Why I’m still here. Sometimes I forget. <\/p>\n
Sometimes I forget that I want to be a saint<\/h2>\n
About a year ago, I gave a LEGO\u00ae Serious Play\u00ae workshop to some cloistered nuns. I asked them about their dreams. <\/p>\n
And there was something in their answers that disarmed me. They wanted to be saints. Nothing more. Saints<\/strong>. <\/p>\n
They didn’t want to be the most efficient religious. Nor have the best-organized community. Nor design the best strategic plan. <\/p>\n
They wanted to be saints. These days I’ve thought about them a lot. <\/p>\n
Because amidst meetings, plans, projects, budgets, calendars, news, statistics, Zoom calls, WhatsApp, emails, and urgencies, I can also forget that.<\/p>\n
I want to be a saint. And I want my brothers and sisters to be saints. <\/p>\n
That’s why I needed this Synod<\/h2>\n
We are halfway through the Augustinian Recollect Missionary Synod. There are still conversations to be had. There are still insights. There are still moments of prayer. There are still questions that we surely won’t resolve here. <\/p>\n
But I think I’m beginning to understand why I personally needed these days.<\/p>\n
I needed to remember.<\/strong><\/p>\n
To remember that I am a missionary. To remember that I need to listen. To remember where I come from. To remember that God always arrives before me. To remember that there are jugs I need to leave behind. To remember that I need my brothers and sisters. To remember that I have to look to heaven. And to remember that I want to be a saint. <\/p>\n
Perhaps in a few days, routine will return, to the streets of Madrid.<\/p>\n
Emails will return. Meetings. Problems. Rushes. Projects. News to publish. And surely some of these things will make me forget again. <\/p>\n
That’s why I want to write this to you now, young ARY member. So I can come back here when I need to. <\/p>\n
Because, yes: sometimes I forget.<\/strong><\/p>\n
And perhaps one of the reasons God gives us brothers and sisters to walk with is precisely this: so that, when we forget, someone walks beside us and reminds us.<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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