Doors being Opened in Oakland

I think I'm starting to like this place. Today marked my second day working as an intern for InnerCHANGE in Oakland, and it was a hectic, at times tedious, and yet satisfying day.

We started off the day with mass, going to the beautiful parish of St. Elizabeth. We had the opportunity to listen to a passionate preacher, Father Martin. His message of forgiveness as an important aspect in working toward justice with the poor was not only touching, but fitting to my experience.

I introduced myself to Fr. Martin, telling him my involvement with a missionary order for the summer, and that I was looking for a parish and for some ministry opportunities. He welcomed me warmly, and instructed me to come back to the parish office for more instructions.

After mass, our little group of three (my leader, her fiancee and me) went to one of the leader's house for morning prayer. After prayer and lunch we went grocery shopping and found ourselves burdened with unforgiving loads of bags, walking for one mile to get home.

We walked approximately 5 miles in our little adventure.

Arriving at the house, we didn't even bother with putting the groceries inside the fridge, but we were automatically led to the couch, where the three of us crashed simultaneously. 

Minutes later we awoke from our improvised nap and headed out to the parish office. We had a meeting with Fr. Martin where we shared our work with InnerCHANGE and our desire to connect in some way or another with the parish.

We talked about gangs. He shared how the parish High School is unfortunately known as a Chilli Peppers gang (not actual name of the gang, of course). He told us of the multiple ministries opportunities available in the parish, and that if we wanted to work on something specific he is open to listen about it.

He also told us of the charismatic nature of the parish (yay!) and of the two youth groups available at church.

We went out from our meeting rejoicing for the door God was clearly opening for us. "It's a Chilli Peppers High School!" I absurdly said with joy to the group. As I did this I felt the presence of the Holy Spirit stirring in me. I feel this is a great ministry opportunity and I'm excited to see how God will develop it.

It is unfortunate that these streets are filled with violence and tragedy. The stains of poverty are clearly seen in the colorful garments that these streets wear. The poignant faces of  frustration and struggle are looking at us from every corner.

But there is also great joy in these streets. Openness and friendship meets our gazing eyes almost everywhere. There is the hope of an open field, where the seed of the gospel is being planted by many. Its fruits are clearly seen with the eyes of faith.

Photo Credit: jdnx.

Sometimes I feel Discouraged...

This ministry has its way of surprising you. These mixed surprises are one of the few constants that one can rely upon in this seemingly unstable, volatile and at times fragile ministry.
 

They aren't always pleasant. Half of them aren't. Last night shouldn't have come as a surprise, but its unpleasantness can still be felt.

Nothing extraordinarily bad happened last Thursday night. It's seemingly uneventful nature was striking. It felt just "meh", boring even, and that was the biggest problem. Usually on Thursday nights things go one way or the other, great or terribly bad. The unbearable middle is unfamiliar, and to a certain extent, unwanted. Best part is that I was leading. Perhaps this is just an overly pessimistic view of it, it probably is. I know good things came out of it in the end.

I know God wants to do great things with this little group, but sometimes it feels like it's just dying. One night, last year, I was to lead the group as well. Nobody came so I just stayed there praying. I was saddened by the absence of the boys. But something happened while praying.

I felt God was giving me these undeniable sense that He wanted to do great things in this little group. He wanted to revitalize it, and He wanted me to be part of it. I was deciding whether I should continue volunteering in the group at the moment.

So I stayed, and the group slowly became one of my priorities. In fact, I felt in love with it. Good things started to come, but no drastic change, and at times it feels like nothing has changed. 

The group isn't consistently growing. There seems to be a lack of progress. Nights like yesterday makes me wonder if I was wrong in thinking that I was listening from God. It can be difficult to believe that when you see not much change.

But then again I have been lazy. I haven't planned out things as I should. I had relied too much on improvisation. I haven't prayed as much about it as I should. I forget that it is not my work, but His.

I find encouragement in this 19th century African American Spiritual, There is a Balm in Gilead:

Sometimes I feel discouraged

and think my work's in vain,

but then the Holy Spirit

revives my soul again.

This is my prayer today. Come Holy Spirit come. In the name of Jesus, Amen.

Photo Credit: jhcloud8.

An Encounter with Darkness.

My summer adventure-ministry is over and now I'm back with the Augustinian community. For those who didn't know: I volunteered for the summer to live as a Innkeeper in a Christian transitional house. It was a great experience and I learned a lot in the process.

I moved back into the community on July 28th, but I was supposed to do so on the 30th. The reason why I did will be explained in this post. Without giving too much detail, there was one young guy who was living in the transitional house who was apparently going through too much trouble. He seems naturally rude and rough in his character. He is a constant liar, almost pathological liar. I suspect that he suffers from Histrionic Personality Disorder, an attention seeker. The last couple of nights that I was there he outright disrespected members of the community, making a big drama show about it, full of Bible throwing, knife pulling and name calling. And the air around the house felt heavy.

The leaders of the transitional house are a deeply devoted and committed couple. They live within walking distance from the transitional house. They sent us a text-message regarding the heavy air, calling us to prayer. I decided to pray the Rosary, but when I decided to do so, a horrible fear invaded my soul. I think it is important for you to know, dear reader, that I'm not one of those fanatics who see the devil in everything. I do believe in the devil and darkness, as Catholic that I am, but I'm very moderate in my beliefs. Some conservatives would call me something close to a Liberal, but I consider myself a moderate. I adhere to the Church's teachings, but I'm not a conservative Catholic. Nor am I a Liberal Catholic who supports abortion, same-sex marriage or even contraception.

Now that that disclaimer is out of the way, onto the story. The fear was telling me to stop praying, that I shouldn't be involved in this. It told me to leave this to those who are more spiritually mature. I wasn't strong enough to deal with this...darkness, this horrible presence that was now pressing against my chest at the recitation of every Hail Marys. I felt its anger, it was getting angrier. There came a point where I was breathing with difficulty. Continuing with the prayer was getting harder. The words didn't come out easily. And the fear, what a horrible thing it was! You feel like there's little you can do about it. It is not the kind of fear that impels you to fight or run. It was a disabling fear. Not the kind that prepares you for battle but weakens you. One that threatens you to a corner and hide your face between your legs and simply hope for the best. It is not one that is taken away by the switch of a light bulb, or by the presence of others. It follows you whenever you go, like the darkest shadow of yourself. It was not in me, but whispering at my back. I have never been so afraid in my life.

It was past 1am in the morning, and I finally finished the rosary. I was afraid of finishing it, fearing that the prayer was the only thing protecting me. I called one of the Innkeepers, who was sleeping. "I don't feel comfortable being alone, can I talk to you?". He kindly accepted. I went to his room and told him "You know I wouldn't wake you up unless it was a serious matter", and told him what had happened. The darkness was still whispering at my back, following me. One of the young guy who lives in the community came to the room as well, expressing that the air felt heavy. We were talking for about fifteen minutes when I heard someone coming into the house. I came out of my friend's room and into the hallway and found out that it were the leaders of the community. The devout couple had come, apparently, to pray. When I met them at the hallway, I asked the leader, who we would call Carlos, if he felt "that". He simply replied, "No, I'm fine." Then he looked me in the eyes and said "Get on your knees". I did, and he went to the living room to pray with his wife. I prayed for a few minutes, still afraid, still with that darkness on my back.

After my brief prayer on the hallway, I went into the living room where I found Carlos praying, prostrated face down on the floor. His wife was in the dining room, talking with the young guy who was previously talking with us. The living room was dark, with only the dim orange lights of the dining room next to it shining softly on the background. As I entered the living room, Carlos got on his knees and looked up to me and said: "I feel your soul very disturbed, what's going on? are you okay?". I told him that I didn't feel good, explaining everything that had happened. He told me to get on my knees again, and he started to pray for me. As he was praying he said "Yes, I feel something heavy" showing me with his hands where it was. Right next to me. He tried to impose his hands on me but couldn't. It was as if something was pulling him back. He tried again but nothing, this time he pulled his hands and shake them in pain. "I can't do it" he said crying. He then called for his wife for help in prayer. The wife came and started praying for me. The young guy, scared, got on his knees and started to pray as well. Through the wife's prayer (and I believe the young's guy prayer as well), Carlos could pray over me again. He extended his hands toward me, almost laying them on me. This time, nothing was pulling him back. As he did, I close my eyes. I felt a force pushing me away from Carlos' hands. After about 15 to 20 minutes of prayer, we felt that the darkness stopped following me. Almost at the end of the prayer, another Innkeeper came down from the third floor above us. He came and prayed for the young guy who was now not feeling so good. We prayed for him, and he started to cry. I was terrified throughout the whole process. But I prayed. I sat down for a while, and started to pray. The young guy, with his eyes filled with tears, looked at me and with an almost commanding voice told me:"Kneel and keep praying". I did so, remembering CS Lewis' view on the importance of position while praying. We finished the prayer with an Our Father. And we all felt better. The darkness was no longer following. But I still felt it, hiding somewhere.

"So should we tell him?"asked Carlos to his wife. She looked at me and said, "we decided to come here because I had a bad feeling about you. We feel that for your security, it is okay if you leave tomorrow instead of Friday". Tomorrow, being at the moment present since it was around 2am in the morning, was Wednesday. The young guy told us that he heard Jesus while in prayer ,telling him that if he wanted Him to liberate him and me, that he should get on his knees, face down, not only asking for it, but imploring it. That he needed to show Him that he has fear of the Lord. He also told us that when we were praying the Our Father he could hear our voices, but another voice as well. It was the most beautiful voice he has ever heard. I still felt the fear, this time more distant, away from me. I felt as though I had just wakened up from a terrible sickness. A similar feeling one feels the next morning after a whole night fighting with a sickness. It feels like you can finally rest, glad that the experience is over. You feel comforted, but still shaken up about it. The feeling continued the next morning. The whole community gathered for prayer the next morning, asking the Holy Spirit to come upon us. It moved in us, and we felt better. I did not sleep in my room that night. I couldn't sleep alone after the experience, but slept in the same room of another Innkeeper. The next day, following the recommendation of the leaders, I moved out of the transitional house.