I watched a clip of
The Mission for my class. I wanted to see the rest of it. It came this week from
Netflix. It devastated me. I realized that I had been there. Not in a figural sense, but literally... there. The filming took place at Iguazu Falls. The natives the Jesuit priests were ministering to were the Guarani.
I know Guarani people. I visited Iguazu Falls when I was on a missions trip to Paraguay. I walked out on the observation deck looking into the devil's throat with Pastor Donald, a Guarani native from Paraguay. We talked about the ring tailed
coatí and the river, and how Paraguay lost the falls to Brazil.
I more than identified with the priests efforts to protect their flock. I wept when they stood with them under attack. With heavy heart I asked, “Where was Christ in all of this?” Then Father Gabriel, leading his congregation out to meet the troops, singing hymns, lifted high the monstrance. I am lucky as a protestant to understand the significance. The monstrance contains the host, in Catholic theology transubstantiated into the actual body of Christ. The
monstrance is a holy place to place the host so it can be adored. So as I was asking, “God where are you?!” Father Gabriel answered, “Christ is here, He suffers with us!”
I am left in tension. Will brother Rodrigo’s way of taking up arms, or will Father Gabriel’s way of love prevail over the senseless violence? Neither. Violence has its way.
After watching I spent the next day with burdened heart. Not only does my heart cry out to God because of the injustice, but because the Guarani have been the people of my heart from the time of my visit (The Mission reminds me of this). As I am mourning, I turned to the Office of Readings for the day.
Psalm 10
1 [a]Why, O LORD, do you stand far off?
Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?
2 In his arrogance the wicked man hunts down the weak,
who are caught in the schemes he devises.
3 He boasts of the cravings of his heart;
he blesses the greedy and reviles the LORD.
4 In his pride the wicked does not seek him;
in all his thoughts there is no room for God.
5 His ways are always prosperous;
he is haughty and your laws are far from him;
he sneers at all his enemies.
6 He says to himself, "Nothing will shake me;
I'll always be happy and never have trouble."
7 His mouth is full of curses and lies and threats;
trouble and evil are under his tongue.
8 He lies in wait near the villages;
from ambush he murders the innocent,
watching in secret for his victims.
9 He lies in wait like a lion in cover;
he lies in wait to catch the helpless;
he catches the helpless and drags them off in his net.
10 His victims are crushed, they collapse;
they fall under his strength.
11 He says to himself, "God has forgotten;
he covers his face and never sees."
12 Arise, LORD! Lift up your hand, O God.
Do not forget the helpless.
13 Why does the wicked man revile God?
Why does he say to himself,
"He won't call me to account"?
14 But you, O God, do see trouble and grief;
you consider it to take it in hand.
The victim commits himself to you;
you are the helper of the fatherless.
15 Break the arm of the wicked and evil man;
call him to account for his wickedness
that would not be found out.
16 The LORD is King for ever and ever;
the nations will perish from his land.
17 You hear, O LORD, the desire of the afflicted;
you encourage them, and you listen to their cry,
18 defending the fatherless and the oppressed,
in order that man, who is of the earth, may terrify no more.
I prayed this psalm with many tears. The antiphons were powerful confessing my burdened heart and God’s protection for the poor. Alleluia!
, he talks about movement from illusion to prayer, loneliness to solitude, and hostility to hospitality. 
talks about how ministry followed Nouwen. He didn’t go off looking for ministry, but people were drawn to him. When immersed in ministry when he should have been resting, Nouwen claims:
