BY SR. NORMA PIMENTEL, M.J. | March 26, 2017
Readings
Reflexión en español

Across the globe, many are struggling with how to respond to the refugees arriving within their borders.

Daily, I see the suffering of immigrant families fleeing violence and poverty.

Much like the man born blind in John’s Gospel, these people were born into economic and social hardships they did not choose. Like the blind man, they seek a better life in which they can feed their families and live without fear or discrimination.

Although many people and organizations seek to provide humanitarian care to the stranger among us, refugees are often in danger of not receiving the protection and human dignity they deserve as God’s children.

The shoes of Fernando, a four-year-old Guatemalan boy. He and his mother were served by Catholic Charities of the Rio Grande Valley after arriving McAllen, Texas. Photo courtesy of Verónica Cárdenas and part of Traveling Soles, a series of images designed to tell the story of immigrants arriving in the U.S.

In today’s Gospel reading the Pharisees criticize Jesus for working on the Sabbath while, at the same time, ignoring the blind man’s deep suffering and Jesus’ healing miracle.

So, we may ask ourselves: Who is truly blind? Is it the man who was not able to see since his birth or the leaders of the establishment who have no vision, no compassion?

In the spiritual tradition of St. Ignatius of Loyola, pray for the grace of divine sight — sight that would allow you to witness and empathize with those who experience gross inequality.

May your charitable work this Lenten season include advocating for those in most need of mercy and healing. Call upon the leaders of your city, state and nation. Beg them “to see” the injustice of laws that cause or perpetuate suffering.

May God’s grace be visible through you as you rise up in support of the most vulnerable in our midst.

Editor’s Note: This piece was originally published as part of the Ignatian Solidarity Network Rise Up: A Lenten Call to Solidarity series.

Sr. Norma Pimentel, M.J.

As Executive Director of Catholic Charities of the Rio Grande Valley, Sister Norma Pimentel oversees the charitable arm of the Diocese of Brownsville, providing oversight of various programs: emergency assistance, clinical counseling, housing assistance, pregnancy care and military assistance. In the summer of 2014 she organized the community resources responding to the surge of refugees seeking asylum in the United States. The Humanitarian Respite Center in McAllen, TX and its countless volunteers from the around the country have welcomed more than 71,000 individuals from 31 countries. Sister Norma Pimentel earned a bachelor’s degree in fine arts and graduate degrees in theology and counseling psychology.

Como Directora Ejecutiva de las Caridades Católicas del Valle del Río Grande, la Hermana Norma Pimentel supervisa el brazo caritativo de la Diócesis de Brownsville, supervisando varios programas: asistencia de emergencia, consejería clínica, asistencia en vivienda, atención de embarazo y asistencia militar. En el verano de 2014 organizó los recursos comunitarios que respondían a la oleada de refugiados que buscaban asilo en los Estados Unidos. “The Humanitarian Respite Center in McAllen” en McAllen, TX y sus innumerables voluntarios de todo el país han recibido a más de 71,000 personas de 31 países. La hermana Norma Pimentel obtuvo una licenciatura en artes y postgrados en psicología y teología.

BY MARY BAUDOUIN | March 16, 2017
Readings

“Blessed are they who hope in the Lord.”

Oh me of little faith….that’s the phrase that goes through my head when I think about my friend Zoila.  

Zoila with the author and her family.

By all accounts, Zoila should be hopeless. She is an 82 year old tiny undocumented Filipina, trafficked to the US 35 years ago by an unscrupulous “employer”. She only knows 100 English words, is nearly deaf, had no family, no money, and no source of support. She lived on the generosity of families who took her in and took care of her while she took care of them. When she showed up at our house after being told that she could no longer live with the family that had housed her for 10 years, we took her in for a year.

Although she was unfailingly kind, living with Zoila wasn’t easy, especially when she took over our garden. She would wander our neighborhood and take cuttings out of strangers’ yards and plant them all over our yard. She was absolutely convinced that God would grow these spindly plants—and amazingly, with Zoila’s tender care some of them grew! Zoila was also always convinced that God would take care of her—and God did.  Zoila bloomed with hope, and she nurtured hope and faith in me.

Zoila would have withered and died years ago without her hope. There are so many refugees and undocumented people like Zoila who live only on the hope of creating better, safer, less violent lives for themselves and those they care for, and the belief that God will deliver them to security. Right now, our country seems to be depriving them even of that last vestige of their human dignity—their hope.

Shouldn’t everyone have a right to hope, a right to believe that God will take care of them in the places where they try to plant themselves anew?

PS:  This story has a happy ending.  Zoila is now back in the Philippines, taken in by a large community who love her. She is known to that community as “Nanay Zoila”, which means Mama. She has finally found her forever family.

Reflection questions:

• How can we nurture hope in others, especially migrants and refugees whose hope is diminishing in these difficult times?
• How can we remain a hopeful people even when times seem dark?

Editor’s Note: This piece was originally published as part of the Ignatian Solidarity Network Rise Up: A Lenten Call to Solidarity series.

Mary Baudoin

Mary Baudouin is the Provincial Assistant for Social Ministries for the Jesuits of the US Central and Southern Province.