God's Will Before You: He Leadeth Me

He Leadeth Me: An Extraordinary Testament of Faith

by Walter J. Ciszek, S.J., with Daniel L. Flaherty, S.J.

This book is recommend by Mater Amabilis™ in Level 4 for Catholic Culture. It also aligns very well with twentieth century history (scheduled for Level 4), especially if you choose a focus on Russian history.

Father Walter Ciszek followed God's call to Russia in 1939. He was eventually arrested, spent five years in solitary confinement and ten years at a labor camp. After his release, he remained in Russia, under constant surveillance and control until 1963. In this book, he writes passionately about following God's will, both his personal experience in Russia, and the universal experience of every Christian.

Each of us has no need to wonder about what God's will must be for us; his will for us is clearly revealed in every situation of every day, if only we could learn to view all things as he sees them and sends them to us. (p. 40)

He writes often of this revelation of God's will in the people who appear before us each day. He learned to find true freedom in following this will. All he had to do was respond to the events and people presented to him. While in solitary confinement, he learned to focus on prayer and the present moment, without worrying about how he would handle the next day, the next interrogation. Not that these lessons were easy to learn. He writes eloquently of his own fears and failures. After his eventual release from the prison, his joy overflowed, even as he traveled by crowded railcar to a labor camp.

For me, each day came forth from the hand of God newly created and alive with opportunities to do his will. For me, each day was a series of moments and incidents to be offered back to God, to be consecrated and returned in total dedication to his will. That was what my priesthood demanded of me, as it demanded of every Christian. (p. 93)

Life at the labor camp was harsh. Attempts to minister to the few Christians in the camp were fraught with danger. The daily work was arduous and the food minimal. Despite the rough treatment and severe conditions, Father Ciszek did not shirk his assignments.

I did each job as best I could. I worked to the limit of my strength each day and did as much as my health and endurance under the circumstances made possible. Why? Because I saw this work as the will of God for me. [...] The labor I did was not a punishment, but a way of working out my salvation in fear and trembling. Work was not a curse, even the brutish grunt work I was doing, but a way to God--and perhaps even a way to help others to God. I could not, therefore, look upon this work as degrading; it was ennobling, for it came to me from the hand of God himself. (p. 106)

Father's words are comforting and encouraging. In an inescapable situation, he found grace and hope, following the will of God each moment of each day. I do think there are situations where God is calling us to action to change our situation, these words of faith are inspiring coming from a man who suffered so much so joyfully. I don't believe God will's our suffering (especially in labor camps), but he can grant us great joy and grace when we offer our sacrifices to Him.

The thought that actions otherwise worthless in themselves could be somehow redemptive, could serve the growth of his kingdom upon earth because they were undertaken in obedience to his will, and that such actions could even be the source of grace for others, could share in Christ's work of meriting grace for all--that thought sustained me in joy and drove me on to work ever harder to achieve more perfect communion with God and his will. (p. 123)

In the labor camp and his time working as a "free" man, Father Ciszek always found small groups of Christians to whom he could minister, or close friends with whom he could talk long into the night about God and enduring faith. Yet he admits to few converts. He placed his faith in God's will and his eternal view. Father's words readied the soil for God's "seeds" of faith, to be sown and reaped at a time or place beyond his sight.

This was the place he had chosen for us, the situation and circumstances in which he had placed us. One thing we could do and do daily: we could seek first the kingdom of God and his justice--first of in our own lives, and then in the lives of those around us. From the time of the apostles--twelve simple men, alone and afraid, who had received the commission to go forth into the whole world to preach the good news of the kingdom--there has been no other way for the spreading of the kingdom than by the acts and the lives of individual Christians striving each day to fulfill the will of God. (p. 177) 

I relished this book, sometimes only reading a page or two at a time, often before the Eucharist in Adoration. To be honest, there is a lot of repetition, but these are surely lessons we struggle to absorb, so perhaps a little repetition is worthwhile.

I believe this will be an excellent book for First Daughter in Level 4 (eighth grade). I've assigned it to her for third term, when it will be read as she studies the Russian Revolution, and reads One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich. First Son did not read this book; I just didn't want to buy it that year. But it's so worthwhile (at any age), I intend to assign it to him next year, in twelfth grade. 

I have received nothing in exchange for this post. Links to Bookshop and Amazon are affiliate links. I purchased this book.

Being Ever Present: The Shepherd Who Didn't Run

The Shepherd Who Didn't Run: Fr. Stanley Rother, Martyr from Oklahoma

by Maria Ruiz Scaperlanda

Father Stanley Rother was a priest of Oklahoma. Murdered while serving as a missionary in Guatemala, he is a martyr of the Church (and here) who will be beatified in a ceremony in Oklahoma City on September 23, 2017. This news is tremendously exciting for those of us in close proximity to Oklahoma and should be for all the American faithful as he will be the first American diocesan priest to be beatified.

After a little consideration, I decided I should see if there was an adequate book for First Son to read in Level 4 for the Catholic saints and martyrs, as suggested by Mater Amabilis™.

I think it would have been helpful to have a list of pronunciations in the front of the book. Many of the Guatemalan names, places, and words are Spanish, so they are probably familiar enough to Americans. The Mayan words are much more difficult, though they are usually defined in the book and easily "hummed" over.

Rother - row-ther
Okarche - oh-car-che (Father Stanley's hometown in Oklahoma)
Tz’utujil - dz- oot oo hēēl - I found a document that showed this pronunciation; this seems to match what I remember Oklahoma City Archbishop Paul S. Coakley saying when I heard him speak on Father Rother.

The first chapter is really more of an introduction (even though there's a separate introduction), with the narrator appearing not just as a voice, but as an integral character. The story switches focus to Father Rother in the second chapter, one that develops his character by describing how his great-grandparents migrated to Oklahoma and what life was like for them. The author does an excellent job showing how they survived in a difficult land through a difficult time.

This text is not meant to be a comprehensive collection or a definitive presentation on his life, or his death, or his cause for canonization. This book is meant to honor the faith and faithfulness of Stanley Francis Rother -- Padre Apla's -- as brilliant ray of light in the midst of a very dark period in the history of Guatemala and the Americas.

Apla's means Francis, the name Fr. Rother used because it was easier than Stanley in both Spanish and the Mayan dialect. Despite struggling with both Latin and Spanish, Fr. Rother devoted himself to successfully learning Tz-utujil. It doesn't take much of an internet search to discover for yourself how complicated the language is.

Fr. Rother's life as a missionary in Santiago Atitlan began with a group, and their discussions about how to live within the community introduce complications missionaries still face in walking the line between cultures, how much to become like those we evangelize and how to avoid imposing our culture while still teaching what may be new and yet necessary for health and safety as well as the faith.

The book quotes extensively from letters from Fr. Rother to his family and friends in the United States or in other missionary posts. He wrote one year after Easter about the Holy week liturgy at Cerro de Oro, one of the missionary parishes he served. 

The people elected to go back to the top of the Cerro again this year as last and it took 45 minutes to climb. It is the "hill of gold" and has special significance for them and their Mayan background. There are even timeworn stone carvings up there. We vested and just then the sun came up. All turned to the sun and adored it a few moments... (As Father Jude Pansini later explained, the "adoring" of the sun was adoration of the risen Jesus Christ, symbolized by the sun.) We then renewed our baptismal vows by having water poured on the heads of all... Before this, the lake was blessed from our lofty position about 1,000 feet above it.

The surge of support from Oklahoma dwindled over time. After beginning his mission as one of a team of twelve, Fr. Rother eventually found himself alone at Santiago Atitlan. He was undeterred and content.

"This kind of work, I hope, will be given special consideration for length of tenure. Maybe they'll let me retire here," he concluded. "I would stay if all support from Oklahoma were stopped."

Father Boyer was one of many visitors that trickled in and out of the mission over the years. He visited with Archbishop John Quinn in 1975. 

"He didn't go there to do anything. He went there to be there, with the people," Father Boyer emphasized. "And because he was there, other things happened ... like the school, and the clinic, and farming the fields."

The author recounts events leading up to his martyrdom, including some horrible attacks on members of the church as persecution by the government and guerrilla fighters intensified. These are disturbing, of course, but their descriptions are appropriate to the events and not exaggerated or glorified. Writing to his bishop in September 1980, Fr. Stanley showed he understood the dangers he faced.

Given the situation, I am not ready to leave here just yet. There is a chance the Government will back off. If I get a direct threat or am told to leave, then I will go. But if it is my destiny that I should give my life here, then so be it. Like the priest in the neighboring parish said to me, "I like martyrs, but just to read about them." I don't want to desert these people, and that is what will be said, even after all these years. There is still a lot of good that can be done under the circumstances.

He did travel to Oklahoma when he learned his name was on a list of targeted men, but he couldn't stay long. His heart was with his people at Santiago Atitlan.

The shepherd cannot run at the first sign of danger. Pray for us that we may be a sign of the love of Christ for our people, that our presence among them will fortify them to endure these sufferings in preparation for the coming of the Kingdom. 

It is almost described as a time during which he said goodbye to those he loved in the States. His sister, who belongs to a convent in Kansas, remembers talking with him during this last visit home. She said, "So, don't go."

Remembering his simple reply, "But I have to," Sister Marita says now, "And that was it. I knew enough about God's working to know that when it's there, you've got to do it."

The scene of Fr. Stanley's martyrdom is described starkly and is a gruesome one. If you are concerned for a gentle or young reader, you can find it on pp. 217-218.

There are quite a few little typographical errors that should have been caught by a copyeditor. To be honest, I worried a book from Our Sunday Visitor would be inadequate as a school book as I feel like their offerings are often inconsistent. This book, however, is excellent.

The author allows Father Stanley to speak for himself often through his letters. She shows restraint in describing the process for his canonization. (At the time it was published, he had not yet been declared a martyr.) Father Stanley's struggle to become a priest, his love for the people of his parish in Guatemala, his determination to learn their language and truly live with them, and his willingness to experience their fear even until death...all these aspects of his life speak to our modern lives. He is truly a Catholic hero.

By constantly striving to deliberately be present to the people in front of him, to the needs in front of him, Father Stanley proclaimed a God who lives and suffers with his people. For Father Stanley, the choice to die for his Tz'utujil was a natural extension of the daily choice he made to live for them, and in communion with them. His death was nothing less than a proclamation of God's love for the poor of Santiago Atitlan.