Saturday, February 8, 2014

Saint Josephine Bakhita: Freedom and Hope

Born to the Daju people in Western Sudan around the year 1869, Josephine Bakhita was kidnapped and sold into slavery when she was between the ages of seven and nine. Eventually purchased by an Italian consul, she was taken to Italy where she was converted to Catholicism through her contact with the Canossian Daughters of Charity in Venice. She rarely spoke of her years of enslavement, but her sufferings were so extreme that she was plagued by horrific nightmares for the rest of her life and the trauma caused her to forget the name she had received from her parents. (Her adopted name, Bakhita, means “Lucky.”) In 1893, having been baptized Giuseppina, she entered Cannosian Sisters, winning the esteem of many by her piety and charity.  She spent the remaining 54 years of her life serving the community and its students in a number of assignments, including cook, sacristan, and housekeeper. Known for her gentleness, especially her smile, she was commonly referred to as the “Little Brown Sister” or “Black Mother” by people in the local community.

A photograph of St. Josephine Bakhita
taken near the end of her life.


Josephine Bakhita died after an extended illness on February 8, 1947. Canonized in 2000, she is honored as the patron of Sudan and of enslaved peoples, as well as the victims and survivors of human traffickking. At her beatification in Khartoum, Sudan, in 1993, Blessed John Paul II proclaimed: “Rejoice, all of Africa! Bakhita has come back to you. The daughter of Sudan, sold into slavery as a living piece of property, is free, free with the freedom of the saints.”

Despite her extreme suffeirngs, Josephine Bakhita expressed gratitude for her experiences, because it was through them that she ultimately encountered Christ and began to have hope. This was not an enslaved person’s hope of having a kind master, but, what Pope Benedict XVI has called, the “great hope” (see Spe Salvi, 3-4) She was able to declare, “I am definitively loved and whatever happens to me—I am awaited by this Love. And so my life is good.” The hope that was born in her redeemed her and gave her the discovery the true freedom that comes from Christ: “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 12:28).

A Prayer in Honor of Saint Josephine Bakhita +
O God, who led Saint Josephine Bakhita from abject slavery
to the dignity of being your daughter and a bride of Christ,
grant, we pray, that by her example
we may show constant love for the Lord Jesus crucified,
remaining steadfast in charity
and prompt to show compassion.
Through Christ our Lord. Amen.
(from the Roman Missal)
 

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

The Martyrs of Nagasaki: Living the Mystery of the Cross

Through the law I died to the law, that I might live for God. I have been crucified with Christ, yet I live, no longer I, but Christ lives in me; insofar as I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God who has loved me and given himself up for me.
Galatians 2:19-20

When Saint Paul wrote his letter to the Galatians, he was reaching out to a community of Christians that he had known personally, and he offers an impassioned appeal for them to live according to the message he had preached to them. At some point, new teachers had come to their community and they had attacked Paul’s character and teachings. In no uncertain terms, Paul defends his authority as an apostle and teacher and he reminds the Galatians that Christians live only by faith in Christ, who is the centerpiece of our faith. When Paul speaks of Christ, he is rejoicing in the love that he has received from Christ. In Saint Paul and the New Evangelization, Ronald Witherup notes, “This is the kind of experience of love that is obviously comforting and reassuring. But Paul did not have a simplistic view of what receiving this love demanded of him. For love freely given demands a free response.”
 
Detail from the Isenheim Altarpiece
by Matthias Grunewald (ca. 1516)

For people confronted with the reality of suffering, the witness of Christ Jesus’ self-offering love can be a source of comfort and encouragement. This is why, for so many Christians throughout the centuries, the image of Jesus on the cross is the most beloved and recognizable symbol of their faith. Even traditional prayers (such as Stations of the Cross, the “Litany of the Passion,” devotions to the Precious Blood or the Holy Face, and the Red Scapular) are all expressions of faith in the all-consuming power of love. And yet, despite its sacramental meaning, the cross of Jesus remains an instrument of death and destruction. Although it serves the dual purpose of being both a symbol of shame and a sign of victory, its origins and purpose remain: the cross on which Jesus died was a shameful and violent tool of execution. But, its power remains. We celebrate this cross in our liturgies on Passion Sunday and Good Friday and in the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross on September 14 and in hymns such as “Lift High the Cross” and the chant “Vexilla Regis Prodeunt.”

In the life of the Church, the power of the cross is most especially celebrated in the sacrifice of the countless martyrs who have, often literally, carried their crosses in imitation of Jesus (cf. Mark 8:34-35). On February 6, we celebrate the liturgical memorial of a group of 26 martyrs who gave their lives on a series of crosses set up on a hill outside the city of Nagasaki, Japan, on February 5, 1596. The first martyrs of the Church in Japan, this diverse group included Spanish, Mexican, and Indian religious, a number of Japanese lay catechists and interpreters, and three children, ages 9, 11, and 12 (who had served as altar boys for the missionaries). After enduring torture and physical mutilation, the martyrs were paraded through a number of villages before being tied to crosses and impaled with lances. Named for the Japanese Jesuit Paul Miki, these “Martyrs of Nagasaki,” were canonized in 1861. Since the time of their canonization, the Church has honored hundreds more Christians in Japan who died as martyrs, including the Filipino layman Saint Lawrence Ruiz and his 15 companions, Blessed Charles Spinola and 204 companions, the Augustinian priests Blesseds Martín Lumbreras and Melchor Sánchez Pérez, as well Blessed Peter Kibe Kasui and his 187 companions. An account of the experiences of these Japanese Christians is contained in Shusaku Endo’s evocative novel, Silence. In all, it is estimated that as many as 10,000 Christians lost their lives in religious persecutions in Japan between 1596 and the middle of the nineteenth century. Amazingly, once Japan was reopened to the outside world in 1865, thousands of Christians came out of hiding, asking the newly-arrived Westerners for statues of Jesus and Mary, remembering a smattering of Latin prayers and Portuguese phrases, and holding onto treasured relics of the missionaries their ancestors had known and loved.

When he announced the Great Jubilee of the Year 2000, in Incarnationis Mysterium, Blessed John Paul II urged the Church to remember the witness of those martyrs who had given all they had for the sake of Christ and the Gospel: “From the psychological point of view, martyrdom is the most eloquent proof of the truth of faith, for faith can give a human face even to the most violent of deaths and show its beauty even in the midst of the most atrocious persecutions.”  

May Saint Paul Miki and the Martyrs of Nagasaki continue to guide and intercede for each of us, always reminding us that the sufferings and darkness we experience throughout our lives, in the wisdom of God, is not an end but, rather, a starting point for growing in the love and light of Christ.
 

A Prayer in honor of Saint Paul Miki and His Companions +
O God, strength of all the Saints,
who through the Cross were pleased to call
the Martyrs Saint Paul Miki and companions to life,
grant, we pray, that by their intercession
we may hold with courage even until death
to the faith we profess.
Through Christ our Lord. Amen.
(from The Roman Missal)