THE EDITOR, Sir:
I WENT to a remembrance service for the two Brothers of the Poor who were shot and killed last Thursday night. They were cut down with a single bullet to the head while washing dishes.
Expecting a sombre event, I dressed in dark colours and made my way to the Missionaries of the Poor complex on North Avenue. As I entered the complex, I was reminded of the oasis of peace and shelter that it provides in the ghetto; a peace and shelter that had been invaded by what is considered the greatest scourge on our nation - the bullet. Invaded yes, but, as I was soon to realise, far from shattered.
REJOICING
I am not a Roman Catholic, and not particularly religious, but like to consider myself deeply spiritual and a firm believer in God. From the get-go the service was a celebration and a rejoicing that reflected and reinforced the pride and joy that Father Ho Lung and these Brothers feel carrying out the work that they do every day. The work that most of us would rather not think about. Work that most of us don't even know needs to be done.
In watching and listening to the words, the community spirit, the caring, the insight, the compassion, I was moved. The prayer of forgiveness for the person who pulled the trigger. Their insight as to why God did not choose to sacrifice the known and ordained, but instead the young and the innocent. They communicated clearly that to see this event as merely a tragedy without hope or faith, or to lash out at all that is wrong, is to undermine all that the Brothers stand for. This was an inspiration to me.
BEAUTY AND TRUTH
I heard more beauty and saw more truth, in the living flesh, in the young and the old of the Brothers of the Poor than I have ever experienced before. Fr. Holung and Fr. Ambrose, would never wish ill on any one of their charges but the significance of the event was not for a moment lost. What an honour, and privilege that those two young men would lay down their life doing God's work, serving others. A choice that every one of those Brothers makes every day knowing that death is a possibility. What an honour and a privilege to anyone who knew them. What an honour and privilege to work with them all.
Today, I learnt the meaning of Life. To die knowing that one had spent one's life serving others which is all that God asks of us. To do that is to love God. Nothing less and nothing more. The more one serves others, the closer one gets to God. I can only hope that one day I also can be strong enough.
I am etc.
ROBIN BASTON
robinb@cwjamaica.com
