Andy had us watch the film "Romero" in his Psychology of Religion class this week. The purpose was to learn about the growth of faith that developed in Oscar Romero as he faced challenges in his life. From what we were told, the film portrays him rather accurately. He was bookish sort of person who was thrust into the role of Archbishop of an El Salvador torn by class struggles because Rome thought that he would not make waves. He could not, however, sit back and see the oppressions committed against the poor and keep silent. This quiet, contemplative man found his voice and spoke out. As he said, "We who have a voice, we must speak for the voiceless." For this, speaking out against the killing and violence and class injustices, he was assassinated as he celebrated Mass.

As we enter "the Holiday Season", we first are supposed to think of "giving thanks for all we have." This is followed by the day that any of us who has ever worked in retail know as "Black Friday". It is the supposed busiest shopping day of the year and is shear hell for those who sit behind the register. I have a disdain for malls now, after working in one for so long. As we sit at the dinner table and give thanks for all that we have, I wonder if we really contemplate exactly what this entails. We live in the richest, most powerful nation on earth. It gobbles up something like 40% of the world's resources, while having only 5% of the world's population. Even though I have lived all of my adult life technically below the poverty line, I have lived very well indeed by comparison to other people in the world and even many inside this country of abundance and overconsumption. When we give thanks for all we have do we consider the impact our bounty has on others? The shirt that I am wearing probably comes from a sweatshop somewhere. I have met someone who works in such a sweatshop. Now I think of him when I look at new clothes. We do not think of people far away that are working for pennies to make us "stuff". We do not take responsibility. We are too easily distracted by stuffing and football games.

In the office where I work, the face of Centro Monsenor Romero stares at me from a poster on the wall and a card sent to me from a local Catholic responding to a call for help with the recent SOA protest. I have to wonder if the gun that was used to kill Oscar Romero was supplied by the US government. I know for a fact that the people responsible for it were trained here in our country. I have seen the place where they train them. I have heard the testimony of people who have seen the repressions and people that have done the training. I know. I cannot sit back anymore and simply not think that it concerns me. We must realise that it does concern each of us. For as long as anyone is oppressed, nobody is free. It is our inaction, our not caring, our leaving up to someone else to fix or denying the problem even exists at all (like Reagan denying the homeless that could be seen from the White House) that allows this injustice to continue.

I feel so incredibly helpless, however, to do anything personally to help bring about change. I remember being at the gate of Fort Benning and seeing the MPs and thinking of the giant institution that they represented. I knew that they were just men behind those uniforms, but they represented the might of the U.S. military. They stood there and told us that we could not do what we were doing, that we could not speak for justice. I think of how it must have been for Romero when he faced down soldiers. We were reasonably sure that they would not shoot at us, he was not. I wish that I had even a fraction of his courage, his faith. Imagine that, a good practicing pagan taking inspiration from a Catholic archbishop. For wanting justice for the common people, he was labeled a communist. Recently, I saw "communist propaganda" written on one of my Common Commodes. I suppose that this intended insult was actually a high praise because in a small, small way it puts me in the same league with many other people labeled "communists" because they spoke out for justice.

From his place on the wall Oscar Romero looks down at me to remind me that we who have a voice must speak for the voiceless. I know that this is not hard to do here at Warren Wilson, that I am not taking much of a risk. I must wonder if people are sick of being forced to read about oppression, class inequality and death squads every time they just want to take a crap. Sometimes I wish that I didn't know half of what I do about inequality in the world. Having this knowledge has forced me to have to take some responsibility for being part of a system in which some people have more than they could possibly need or want while others go without the basic necessities of life. Do we think of them when we sit down at our feasts on Thanksgiving and try to stuff ourselves with more food than we possibly could need while so many others are going hungry?

I no longer have any family with whom to partake of this ritual gluttony. Our society's bigotry against those who find love in those of the same gender has torn me away from having a family. I think that this is for the best. I do not think that I could bear to stuff myself silly knowing that others are going hungry and perhaps I will decide to fast on this day. Perhaps, however it would be better for me to join other Wilsonites that are staying on campus. If there is anything that I have to be thankful of now, it is being a part of a community of people in which many people are working for justice in the world and doing service for others is a part of our lives. It is these people and this community that gives me the thing for which I am most thankful for now - hope. Hope for a better future that we can build together.