RIP TIDE AT THE BORDER

I Thirst † M
…Alabado sea JESUCRISTO!
What a summer…where did it go?
July began with MC Sisters inviting 5 MCF Candidates to help lead 3 intense weeks of kid’s summer camps in 3 different neighborhoods of the Poor. July ended with 5 MCF Aspirants leading a Kerygmatic retreat for youth leaders that volunteered in the summer camps. HOLY SPIRIT raining down! And right when we were ready for a nap, Br. Aaron, Fr. Patrick and I got to go to Steubenville San Diego!!! It is crazy to realize so much happened. The 4 weeks working with the sisters were a test of physical endurance, a challenge for the mind in creativity and flexibility-improvisation (basically being clueless and trusting the Holy Spirit), and a spiritual overdose of the MC life and charism, and of our brotherhood. On the psychological side we are crazy already to be here, so no worries – Fathers and brothers playing “capture the flag” in the dark, jumping on tables in “raptor” form, praise and worship dish washing sessions and cow and cat sounds when rising, etc. is not a novelty in the seminary. Praise Him! For more details write a Mail letter.

So Fr. Adam, Aspirancy superior, decided we needed a day away non-stop craziness. We drove West 20 minutes, parked the car and started the journey. Down to the valley and wet through a river…the day was cloudy and there awaited the mountain! (Carathras!) We hiked along the river valley for about 7 hours. Suddenly, and after our water and peanut butter bread ran out, we found a metal obelisk with an inscription written upon it saying: Territory of the United States of America – Trespassers will be….etc.
Oops! We went too far and not really at the same time. The road we had driven on along the other side of the river valley was still in sight. So we found out why there was a random barb wire cow fence in our path…we had gone international! We found the immigrant US watch station but thankfully the patrollers must have been taking a nap somewhere else because there were only Jeep tracks. None of us had documents with us; only 3 of the 7 can enter the US legally. So my dear Aspirant brothers entered the US in the most unexpected fashion. Surprisingly no 7-11’s around.
I began to think as we were hiking by the cliffs, tired and thirsty, about the reality of the Latin immigrants who come through these parts seeking a “new life” and not simply a day of “paseo”. How easy it is to die, just by falling off, getting bitten by a rattle snake (we found 2 angry ones) or dying of dehydration in the desert mountains. That does not include being robbed or murdered by clever thieves that await the migrants where there is no one to help…
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The previous week, we had been at the beautiful beach of Rosarito (1 hour south) in the grand finale of the Kerygma retreat. Aaron and I decided to swim out in search of the sandbar. Before we knew it we were caught in the rip-tide. The strong pacific current dragged us north some 200 feet and swimming in or south was pretty useless and rather counterproductive. Soon we began to get very tired and one thought crossed my mind: “perhaps we were supposed to die like this…God’s will.” With a semi-panic voice, trying to catch my breath, I told Aaron: “we’re in the rip tide…we have to swim out (the only way to get out is by swimming out and around the drag current)” but we were already so tired. Sister Sahita, MC had told me that morning: “do not take off your scapular when you go in the water.” I obeyed her council, Salve Regina! My thoughts revolved around “wow, this is the kind of stuff I thought could never happen to me…and now I can do nothing...this is it!”
As we were floating and being dragged farther north and away from the coast, Aaron went down seeking the ground. He told me later, after the ordeal was over, that he was stunned at the power of this current under us. Suddenly Aaron (being at least 5 inches taller than me…so he is like 7 ft….pequeño pony) touched a big rock with his toes. He called me and we stood on the rock catching our breath, fighting to keep our heads above the surface since the waves were breaking right on us and pushing us off the rock. We were knocked off the rock but…there was another rock, and right ahead there was another one, and another one!!! Soon we were only about 30 feet from the beach and we could beat the current swimming. We got out, totally wiped out and silent.

What the heck just happened? Suddenly my world was flipped upside down. The Juan Pablo that had been giving talks, animating the kids and youth, making up robotic skits and raps, and organizing holy hours of healing, was a weak, tiny useless thing before the power of nature. My proud confidence was diminished to fear and almost panic in physical and mental exhaustion - perhaps as the migrant realizes there is nothing but desert around him and the water bottle is empty; just as the woman in the sewers finds herself not able to stop the heroine needle from diving into her last unharmed vein in her body, in her neck. Totally poor, and helpless – and the ocean raging against us. “Lord, save me!” cried Peter as he sank trying to walk on water towards Jesus. Peter had “such little faith.” What did I have then? Those words did not even cross my mind in the same circumstances. And behold…MERCY.
The Thirst of God: His passionate Love for us, which is not only a ROCK and a steady and unchanging refuge, but a firm path of salvation onto the shores of Life! A brutal, gentle reminder that I am nothing without Him and that truly there is ABSOLUTELY nothing that I do, which is not His’. That is my greatest sin, to believe (be live), even for the slightest moment, that there are even tiny good things, which I can do, even to “honor” the Lord, which are free, separate from His power or excluded from His Love. “Trust is founded on believing that the love of God is involved in ALL things!” So do I really trust? Ask yourself…

WORTH REPEATING:
“For just as surely as man begins to trust in his own abilities, so surely has he taken the first step on the road to ultimate failure. And the greatest Grace God can give such a man is to send him a trial he cannot bear with his own powers- and then sustain him with His Grace so he may endure to the end and be saved!” -Fr. Walter Ciszek, S.J. – “He Leadeth Me”
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On the way back from the hike we were spotted by the Mexican Migration “Beta” group, which works to help the migrants and protect them from dangers on the Mexican side. They warned us about thieves and also about crossing to the “other side”. They simply could not believe we were there “having fun”…they probably were convinced that the seminary was an asylum. Well, it is…especially when your superior is a hard-core, true MC priest, Australian outback bush man.  Geuaauex! (sp?)

Thank you for your prayers, please pray more; have the mind of Christ. I am doing the best I can trying to pray for you and all the intentions I receive. Heaven is quite busy if they are listening to our pleas…well, it is, the miracle is happening.

Like a glove! - Communion comes to mind.
Thomas put his hand in Jesus’ side, and so He was vested in Christ…his hand, vested like a glove!
“My Lord and my God!”
Mother Teresa, JPII, the saints, the martyrs… they entered the “holes” and so found themselves vested, surrounded by Jesus in the poor (for we are all poor)…and Mary, by the foot of the Cross, calling us beside her- inviting us to enter the mystery of our Salvation through her holy and Immaculate Heart, in her arms, covered by her very mantle- wrapped with her in the enfolding, eternal Love and Spirit of God the Father, soaked in the merciful blood of the Son, and free in the indescribable power of His thirst!
OUR LADY OF PEACE, CAUSE OF OUR JOY, PRAY FOR US!