Easter is Now the Cry of Victory!
Archbishop Romero’s Last Homily
By Scott Wright
On March 23, 1980, the fifth Sunday of Lent, Oscar Romero preached his last Sunday homily. Many remember this homily for his courageous call to the military to “stop the repression!” What precedes that call, however, is a beautiful homily that is vintage Romero, and a wonderful window to the spirituality of a man who embodied the very paschal joy that he proclaimed so boldly:
Easter is a shout of victory! No one can extinguish that life that Christ resurrected. Not even death and hatred against Him and against his Church will be able to overcome it. He is the victor! Just as he will flourish in an Easter of unending resurrection, so it is necessary to also accompany him in Lent, in a Holy Week that is cross, sacrifice, martyrdom… Happy are those who do not become offended by their cross!
Lent, then, is a call to celebrate our redemption in that difficult complex of cross and victory. Our people are very qualified… to preach to us of the cross; but all who have Christian faith and hope know that behind this Calvary of El Salvador is our Easter, our resurrection, and that is the hope of the Christian people.
Cross and resurrection, death and life: these are the cardinal points of Romero’s spirituality. And they are linked, not sequentially, as though the way of the cross ultimately leads to resurrection. Already, in the midst of the most cruel passion that his people were living, the spirit of resurrection penetrates the darkness and offers light and hope to the poor:
Today, as diverse historical projects emerge for our people, we can be sure that victory will be had by the one that best reflects the plan of God. And this is the mission of the Church… to see how the plan of God is being reflected or disdained in our midst…
That is why I ask the Lord during the week, as I gather the cry of the people, the aches of so much crime, and the ignominy of so much violence, that He give me the suitable word to console, to denounce, to call for repentance; and even though I may continue to be a voice crying in the desert, I know that the Church is making the effort to fulfill its mission.
In this last homily, Romero calls attention to the dignity of the human person. In the midst of a life-and-death struggle of his people for liberation, in the midst of the terrible violence and repression of the military and death squads, Romero never lost sight of the human dignity of every person. Every person is a child of God, the Body of Christ, the Temple of the Holy Spirit:
How easy it is to denounce structural injustice, institutionalized violence, social sin! And it is true, this sin is everywhere, but where are the roots of this social sin? In the heart of every human being. Present-day society is a sort of anonymous world in which no one is willing to admit guilt, and everyone is responsible. We are all sinners, and we have all contributed to this massive crime and violence in our country. Salvation begins with the human person, with human dignity, with saving every person from sin. And in Lent this is God’s call: Be converted!
Respect for human dignity, however, requires working for the common good. God desires to save not only persons but entire peoples. God’s plan of salvation is to make the history of every people a history of salvation. And the mission of the Church is to illuminate the way:
Today El Salvador is living its own Exodus. Today we, too, are journeying to our liberation through the desert, where cadavers and anguished pain are devastating us, and where many suffer the temptation of those who were walking with Moses and who wanted to turn back… God desires to save the people making a new history… What is not repeated are the circumstances, the opportunities to which we are witnesses in El Salvador…
History will not perish; God sustains it. That is why I say that in the measure that the historical projects attempt to reflect the eternal project that is God’s, in that measure they are reflecting the Reign of God, and this is the work of the Church. Because of this, the Church, the people of God in history, is not installed in any one social system, in any political organization, in any political party… She is the eternal pilgrim of history and is indicating at every historical moment what reflects the Reign of God and what does not. She is the servant of the Reign of God.
Finally, Romero speaks of the transcendent dimension of liberation, what he calls the true or “definitive liberation.” Here, too, the logic of the cross and resurrection applies. It is not by avoiding the demands of historical liberation that one reaches a definitive liberation, as though by avoiding the suffering of the cross one attains resurrection. It is precisely by incarnating our lives in the historical struggles of our time-and especially those of the poor-that we discover God’s plan and promise of salvation:
The true solution has to fit into the definitive plan of God. Every solution we seek-a better land distribution, a better administration and distribution of wealth in El Salvador, a political organization structured around the common good of Salvadorans-these must be sought always within the context of definitive liberation… Without God, there can be no true concept of liberation. Temporary liberations, yes; but definitive, solid liberations-only people of faith can reach them…
Do you see how life recovers all of its meaning? And suffering then becomes a communion with Christ, the Christ that suffers, and death is a communion with the death that redeemed the world? Who can feel worthless before this treasure that one finds in Christ, that gives meaning to sickness, to pain, to oppression, to torture, to marginalization? No one is conquered, no one; even though they put you under the boot of oppression and of repression, whoever believes in Christ knows that she is a victor and that the definitive victory will be that of truth and justice!
These three themes-the dignity of the human person, the salvation of people in history, and the transcendent dimension of liberation-form the heart of Romero’s spirituality, and they may be found in almost every homily that he preached as Archbishop of San Salvador. Here, too, we find the centrality of the poor, the Gospel proclaimed as Good News to the poor, the necessity to defend the lives of the poor from encroaching death, and the witness of the poor sealed in the blood of martyrdom.
Oscar Romero knew as well as anyone that to proclaim the Gospel in word and deed-announcing God’s salvation and denouncing evil by name-is to invite enemies to your doorstep. Jesus, too, had enemies; the four Gospels are clear on that account. The remarkable thing, however, is that Romero, like Jesus, loved his enemies-he called them “brothers”-and that is why he called them to account. His love for his enemies, however, was rooted in his love for the poor and his love for the Gospel. That is why he spoke the truth and demanded justice:
I would like to appeal in a special way to the men of the Army, and in particular to the troops of the National Guard, the Police, and the garrisons. Brothers, you belong to our own people. You kill your own brother peasants; and in the face of an order to kill that is given by a man, the law of God should prevail that says: “Do not kill!” No soldier is obliged to obey an order counter to the law of God. No one has to comply with an immoral law. It is time now that you recover your conscience and obey its dictates rather than the command of sin.
The Church, the defender of the rights of God, of the law of God, of the dignity of the human person, cannot remain silent before so much abomination. We want the government to seriously consider that reforms mean nothing when they come bathed in so much blood. Therefore, in the name of God, and in the name of this long-suffering people, whose laments rise to heaven every day more tumultuous, I beseech you, I beg you, I command you in the name of God: “Cease the repression!
