MN TRIBUNE
By Eva Fernandezjournalist, COPE correspondent in the Vatican.
Something special always happens to me when I meet a missionary. It is impossible to understand their extreme way of loving, oblivious to headlines and thanks, leaving their lives in remote corners or in large cities orphaned by God. I have had the fortune of meeting many of them on apostolic trips with Pope Francis, and just listening to them challenges me to be better. They spread overflowing love in the midst of difficulties. In Rome I was able to hug Sister Maria Concetta. At that time he was 85 years old and had been crossing the Ubangui River, the natural border between the Democratic Republic of the Congo and the Central African Republic, for six decades to help give birth to some 34,000 children. In the absence of incubators, he wrapped the premature babies in pieces of cotton and surrounded them with hot water bottles. Her life crossed paths with Francis when the Pope inaugurated the Jubilee of Mercy in Bangui in November 2015. She was introduced to him by the Bishop of Bangassou, Juan José Aguirre. That day Sister Concetta had not traveled alone. She was carrying a three-year-old little girl in her arms, with wide eyes who was insistently calling her “mom.” Francisco asked her the reason and she explained simply that her mother died in childbirth. The little girl was left alone, she had no family and the missionary felt that God was asking her to adopt her to take care of her. The Pope was shocked by this story and when he later remembered it, he stated that when he saw so much tenderness concentrated in a woman who lived her life as a religious with such impressive freshness, he thought about the strength of the vocation behind her behavior. That is why it is not surprising that as soon as Francis learned that Sister Concetta was passing through Rome, he wanted to make an exceptional gesture, publicly recognizing during a general audience, in front of everyone, her life of dedication. And along with it, that of “all the missionaries who spread the seeds of the Kingdom of God in all parts of the world. You “burn” life sowing the Word of God with your testimony. And in this world you are not news.
Indeed, his work does not make headlines, but it would make for hundreds of successful documentaries. Now the work of the Hospitallers of the Sacred Heart comes to mind at the Telema Center in Kinshasa (see MN 674, pp. 38-43), where they pick up mentally ill people who walk like zombies aimlessly down the street. Or the difficult work of the Combonis in South Sudan, where I met the current bishop of Bentiu, Christian Carlassare. He had been walking with his faithful for nine days to be able to greet the Pope. On the journey, many people from the towns joined them, most of them with diverse beliefs, willing to travel the kilometers necessary to pray for the long-awaited peace. It was also shocking to discover the apostolate of the Consolata Missionaries in the immense Mongolia, where the temperature drops to 40 degrees below zero and Catholics can be counted almost on the fingers of one hand. In Mozambique I met the priest Juan Gabriel, in charge of the San Benedicto de Mangundze mission, a small village in which being tenants of nothing marks us forever. The Pope brought as part of his personal luggage two wheelchairs that he knew he needed for his people. I confess that I still get emotional when remembering, on the trip to Madagascar (in the image), that entry into the City of Joy, an area full of beautiful humble houses, built on what was previously the closest thing to hell. When Father Opeka, of the Congregation of Saint Vincent de Paul, arrived there for the first time, he found a nauseating open dump, where a legion of poor people, including many children, were dedicated to competing with animals to get some food in the middle of a pile of filth. In this miracle called Akamasoa, those who previously collected garbage have built a city of about 4,000 houses among which hospitals and schools have also been built, and thousands of trees have also been planted to brighten the lives of families.
All these stories have a common denominator, they are people who choose to live the Gospel in a radical way: priests, religious and lay people, missionary volunteers, entire families who love thinking about people without seeking gratitude, but who do not like to be considered heroes, because they know that without the grace of God that sustains them and the support that we owe them, the missions could not survive. And we cannot allow it. The Pontifical Mission Societies are a kind of colossal material and spiritual supply for those who work on the front lines, and to whom we owe so much. I thank my beloved News Now Nigeria magazine for reminding us every October that we are part of its mission. We are a team and we need them to continue being a witness to the Gospel at the crossroads of the world. The Mission is also our responsibility and campaigns like that of DOMUND are vital for the ordinary functioning of the missionary constituencies.
I know perfectly well that they will not like the title of this article, because they do not consider themselves to be made of any other stuff. And when they make the news, they make it despite themselves, because they have made the pain of the people in the midst of which they carry out their work their own. Many work in areas that only become visible when some tragedy turns them into an information focus. Where suffering hurts, we will always find a missionary who remains, because he loves his people. Horror is a backpack that weighs a lot, and that is why I will always defend (even if it weighs on them) that they are made of a different material. Giants who day after day try to give the best of themselves to defend the dignity of those who have nothing.
