The New Wine Press July 2018 | Page 18

Our Common Humanity by Fr. Dave Kelly, c. pp. s., pbmr Director

To be honest, the title of this article was going to be“ The Good, the Bad and the Ugly,” a take-off of the old Clint Eastwood film. It was what I was feeling at the time. Frankly, there are times when the joy of this work is eclipsed by the pain and disappointment. There are days that are very good and filled with amazement and joy. Other days are a challenge to see through the darkness to the other side.
June 2 nd was one of those good days. Cardinal Cupich came into Juvenile Detention Center to celebrate the Confirmation and First Communion of six young men. His pastoral style and generosity of time spoke of his dedication to those who so often have been judged unworthy of our care or concern. The glow on the faces of their mothers and fathers spoke of their pride and joy. The Cardinal saw what so few others claim to see— a child of God.
As he did the last time, he gave each of the young men a cross. The Cardinal explained to the young men that these crosses had been blessed by Pope Francis and were his gift to them on this special day.
June 6 th was a bad day. Olu, one of the youth who is at the Center each day, was shot three times. He survived because a police officer arrived on the scene before the ambulance could get there and put a tourniquet around his leg— the main artery was severed and without his quick thinking, Olu would have bled to death. Today, however, Olu has to try to deal with the aftermath, the trauma that he carries.
As I spoke to Olu, he told me that he didn’ t want to go home. The shooting happened right in front of his house. We spoke about fear mixed with anger. He looked at me, holding back the tears, and talked about the flashbacks he was having. He said that he couldn’ t sleep because of the nightmares.
To be honest, my heart broke looking at him with the multiple gunshot wounds that marked his body. as they carry their own hurt and trauma. There is high tension in the air and it can look, at times, ugly.
Lawyer and author Bryan Stevenson, in his book Just Mercy, writes,“ You can’ t effectively fight abusive power, poverty, inequality, illness, oppression, or injustice and not be broken by it.” He goes on to say that being broken is what makes us human. He says that our brokenness is the source of our common humanity. Our shared vulnerability and imperfection nurtures and sustains our capacity for compassion. While he may not use the terminology, he is speaking of the spirituality that holds the ministry of reconciliation— to embrace the hope of a new creation, even as you hold the pain and suffering.
Certainly, it is evident to mothers who have lost children to homicide or incarceration. While they come from different backgrounds and life experiences, the brokenness that they experience brings them together in a way that I don’ t think could happen otherwise. It is precisely in their woundedness that they find a common bond.
Embracing the brokenness within our own lives opens up the possibility of embracing those who suffer around us. When we deny our own pain, we deny a part of our humanity; and we embark on a road that does not allow us to see the humanity of others. Perhaps that is why the resurrected Jesus appeared bearing the marks of the crucifixion. He knew that without the marks, he would be seen as a ghost or somehow untouchable. Jesus came to share in our humanity. His suffering and death allowed him to be fully human and allowed us to have an intimate relationship with our God.
While I long for more good days than bad, I do recognize that my suffering and pain allow me to share more fully in the humanity of my brothers and sisters. For that, I am grateful. �
The after-the-storm, as Shelly Rambo calls it, is the trauma that remains. I can see this on faces of the youth and the staff who try to accompany them, even
16 • The New Wine Press • July 2018