The internet can be wonderful. Until it’s not. How we use it matters.
This morning, I’m dog-sitting my daughter’s rescue dog, Gus, who has separation anxiety. He loves our fenced-in backyard, but he wants me to enjoy it with him. It will be hot later, but at 7:30 a.m. it’s beautiful and the world seems born anew.
Gus lies languidly in the thick grass, then scampers under flower bushes in search of bunnies, which thankfully evade him.
Suddenly, I remember that at 1 o’clock in Dublin, Ireland, the Gardiner Street Parish has a live-streamed weekday Mass. I grab my phone and at 8 o’clock on the East Coast, a very old priest in Dublin is beginning the words of our universal Holy Sacrifice.
Today’s reading is from Deuteronomy. We’ve been hearing much from Moses lately.
The priest, in his lovely, soft lilt, mentions that we’re all aware of the news — yes, even in Ireland, the worldwide migrant issue presents challenges. He quotes Deuteronomy, about the God, “who executes justice for the orphan and the widow, and befriends the alien, feeding and clothing him. So you too must befriend the alien, for you were once aliens yourself in the land of Egypt.”
Notice, the priest said, it’s not just Jesus who tells us to welcome the stranger. Our teaching goes all the way back to Moses.
I pray for the Mass-goers and afterward click on the tomb of Blessed John Sullivan, which the church houses. As a few people light candles, I pray for Father Sullivan’s intercession. Then Gus and I go inside for breakfast.
Our present national situation can breed hopelessness. Extravagant amounts of money are allotted to hunt down people, imprison them, deport them. Very few are the oft-touted “criminals.” Despite following the rules for seeking asylum, during court appointments, many are accosted by masked men who arrest them.
Jesuit Father Brian Strassburger was interviewed on PBS about such a situation. He attended a scheduled court appointment for a man named Carlos, who fled persecution in Nicaragua and has been seeking asylum for five years. The hearing was proceeding until a DHS representative abruptly said, “The government moves to dismiss the case.” The judge acquiesced.
Leaving the courtroom, Carlos was apprehended, shoved into an unmarked vehicle, and sent to a Louisiana prison.
Father Strassburger is one of several Jesuits assigned to Del Camino Jesuit Border Ministries, serving in the Diocese of Brownsville, Texas, and on both sides of the border, providing spiritual and pastoral care to migrants.
In an email, I asked Father Strassburger how he maintains hope.
“As for hope, it is the faith of migrants that continually inspires me, despite the injustices they face on a daily basis,” he wrote. “My hope doesn’t come from a political party or a bill in Congress … I place my hope in the Lord, and that is not a hope that disappoints. It doesn’t mean that life will be easy, because the Christian journey always includes the cross,” he told me. “But I will not lose hope because it is Jesus himself who calms the storm and tells us to have no fear.”
Father Strassburger reminded me that the “Christian story doesn’t end with the cross. It ends with the Resurrection.”
As the day grows warmer, I’m reminded that hope in Christ is fostered in community, and that sometimes the Internet can help us find that community. I avoid constant scrolling and reading the often-brutal comments sections. Instead, I find ways to be inspired and to help.
The Del Camino ministry can use our help. Visit them at https://www.jesuitscentralsouthern.org/our-work/del-camino
Effie Caldarola is a wife, mom and grandmother who received her master’s degree in pastoral studies from Seattle University.
