Remembering Saint Oscar Romero of El Salvador

The following excerpts contain memories of Saint Oscar Romero, Archbishop of San Salvador, from the book “Dios Tenía Miedo” by Salvadoran author Vanessa Núñez Handal. English translation by Don Dino.

From Chapter 9, meeting Saint Oscar Romero:

    The heat, which at that time of year was unbearable, was not felt inside the chapel of white, geometric beams. We never went to mass there, despite it being close to our house, because Dad said the nuns, who were in-charge of it, were Communists.
    Jimena excused herself saying that she would return after Easter vacation, to which the sister responded by nodding her head yes. We tried to leave by the main doorway, but the nun stopped us. She said the participants in the mass were about to enter, so it would be better for us to leave through the sanctuary, from which there was an exit by a narrow doorway behind the tiny altar, above which hung a crucifix with a life-sized body of Christ.
    The woman bumped the metal door. A high-pitched voice told us to go ahead.
    “I want to make a special appeal to the men of the army.”
    I saw him from behind. He was not tall, but actually had a strong face and a husky body.
    “Brothers, they are part of our people.”
    It appeared to me that he was approaching sixty years old, from the gray hair at his temples and his look of a solemn man.
    “No soldier is obliged to obey an order that goes against God’s law.” Soon I would discover from the newspapers that he was sixty-two years old. “Nobody is required to obey an immoral law.”
    He put on a hat which gave him the look of a Pope.
    “… reforms don’t serve any purpose if they are stained with so much blood.” He turned to look at us. He smiled.
    They have come to be told about the Stations of the Cross, explained the nun. She is close to having her first communion, the nun affirmed putting her hand on Jimena’s shoulder.
    We greeted him. Jimena kissed his ring. We thanked the sister and Jimena promised to return. We left without hurrying, breathing the air in the street and feeling refreshed. In the trees that bordered the paved road, dozens of cicadas cut through the air with their voices.

From Chapter 37, death and funeral of Saint Oscar Romero:

    I look at blurry black and white photos.
    His face reminds me of my grandfather. I don’t see any sweetness in the features of his face. It startles me. Dark lines that emerge from his nose and ears, cross his face and neck. It is the same chapel from that previous afternoon and, nevertheless, so very different.
    In the image several nuns kneel by his lifeless body. One of them is the nun that told us about the Stations of the Cross.
    I read in the text beneath the photo that fifty thousand people accompanied the coffin. A sniper assassinated him with a single shot in the chest. Afterward, they say, the fatal bullet was raffled off among the financiers of the crime.
    A bomb explodes. The multitude disperses through nearby streets. Snipers, posted in the closest buildings, open fire. The cathedral is not able to protect them. From the atrium, the coffin of the martyr looks upon all the dead.

From Chapter 28, Pope John Paul II’s visit to the grave of Saint Oscar Romero:

    “San Salvador, March 6, 1983. Pope John Paul II made a one day visit to our country. The streets through which his caravan passed were full of people. The Pontiff made an unplanned detour to Avenida España, for the purpose of visiting the tomb of monsignor Romero in the metropolitan cathedral, in front of which he prayed.”