Work of Mercy “Niño Dios”, Bethlehem
I would like to start with a beautiful quotation from the Doctoral Thesis of Father Christopher Seith, which will set the tone for this chronicle:
Pieper’s central idea is that, through love of God, work is transformed—amidst suffering and pain—into a gift of oneself to one’s neighbor and can cause creation to radiate God’s glory. In the Spiritual Canticle, St. John of the Cross beautifully expresses what, in my opinion, Pieper means: “Now I devote my soul and all my energy to His service; I no longer tend the flock, nor do I have any other work, for now every one of my actions is love.” John goes on to explain the change in the nature of work experienced by the purified soul: the soul “often works for God and is occupied with Him and His affairs, without thinking or even being aware that it is doing so.” Thus, the person who works in the everyday world and the person who works in the Kingdom of God are, in a certain sense, engaged in two different activities, even while performing materially identical tasks. 1
By the grace of God, the missionaries at Hogar Niño Dios in Bethlehem were recently able to offer our little ones a wonderful time of leisure and fellowship. The summer heat, with the sun’s rays caressing our faces, seemed at first like an obstacle to a fun recreational outing. However, the heat was just one of the many logistical considerations that had to be taken into account. A huge list of preparations was required, as it is no easy task to plan a three-day outing with fifteen children with physical and mental disabilities.
I don’t know exactly when the preparations began, but I do know when the children found out: in true novitiate style, they were told just thirty minutes before they were about to leave! The joy that filled their hearts immediately burst forth in jumping, clapping, shouting, laughter, hugs, and dancing. They knew they were about to have a great time.
While some traveled in a small bus, others rode in separate cars: an hour filled with excitement and curiosity as they wondered what the destination would be like. They couldn’t even imagine that everything had been meticulously prepared for them, since two missionaries had spent most of the previous day driving a car packed with supplies for the gathering. Upon arrival, their happiness was evident in their smiles. The place where we stayed was a cozy house with a beautiful backyard and a pool, which would soon become one of the highlights of the trip.
However, before continuing to describe our days, I must point out some self-evident truths that everyone knows. We know that “all things work together for the good of those who love God” (Rom 8:28). Nothing lies outside His Divine Providence. Not a single sparrow falls without His knowledge; every hair on our heads is counted, and He formed each of us in our mother’s womb.
Therefore, the fact that this trip took place in Jericho was no coincidence. Rather, I believe it was the perfect setting: a place where two monumental events recorded in the Gospels took place. It was precisely the ground on which Providence had placed us, offering us lessons intended not only for the missionaries on this trip, but for all missionaries.
Just ten minutes from our shelter stood the Mount of Temptation, the place where Jesus—God Himself—allowed Satan to tempt Him. “The devil led him up to a high place and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. And he said to him, ‘I will give you all their authority and splendor; it has been given to me, and I can give it to anyone I want to. If you worship me, it will all be yours.'”
This is a temptation every Christian—and, above all, every missionary—faces: the subtle and powerful temptation to flee from the Cross. I am sure that many of us faced it during those three days. We were tempted to complain about the scorching heat, the children’s behavioral problems, or the disruption of our daily prayers and tasks. We were tempted to prioritize our personal comfort over the children’s joy and well-being. However, the greatest trap was the temptation to reduce this entire journey—with all its sweat, preparations, and tears—to something merely “nice” or “fun” for the children. To give in to this temptation is to remain entirely in the worldly realm: to allow ourselves to be “crucified” by our own hands through hectic work, while letting our feet wander wherever our own will desires. It is the temptation to work for the sake of working, treating a sacred duty as a mere “escape” from the routine of our mission.
The remedy for this temptation lies in the second significant event that took place in Jericho: an encounter that no one expected, but which continually saves and sanctifies the missionary. It requires climbing a little higher, so as to see things from above. We all know the story of Zacchaeus: short in stature, but with the repentant heart of a prince. Despite his past sins, he did not hesitate to climb a sycamore tree so he could see Jesus. He knew that Christ was passing by; if he let that moment slip by, salvation might pass right by his house. Instead of pushing his way through the crowd, causing trouble, or blaming others, he asked himself what he could do; in doing so, he realized that he needed to broaden his perspective. Father Fuentes comments on this passage, saying:
There Jesus found him, perched in a sycamore tree—a giant, leafy fig tree. The Master did not call any of those who preferred to linger anonymously in the crowd, but rather one of those who made an effort to see Him. This is how He continues to act throughout history in most cases, even though we cannot establish fixed parameters for the utterly free divine will, because God constantly deviates from the scripts we think we have discovered in Him. In any case, there is no doubt that this is how He usually acts: He reaches out to those who are eager to encounter Him, to those who seek Him—even if they seek Him with great confusion and sometimes along somewhat misguided paths. 2
In the same way, Our Lord walked once again through the streets of Jericho during our three days. He was there when a little girl disobeyed and decided to jump into the pool and nearly drowned; He was there when someone said something funny and everyone laughed; He passed by when the children’s sleepy eyes began to close after a long day; He passed by during those beautiful moments of togetherness despite all our differences; He passed by when, out of sheer excitement, the children refused to go to sleep and caused nighttime chaos; He passed by when they threw tantrums and refused to eat; He passed by when they screamed and ran away in terror from two harmless little puppies; it happened in the many photos taken to remember those joyful moments; it happened when a little girl, terrified of the dog, accidentally peed on my cassock; it happened when everyone cheered happily upon seeing the waiter enter with a tray full of ice cream for all the children; and, though it may be hard to notice, it happened when the youngest child threw up… and someone had to clean it up.
Our Lord passed by there countless times, waiting for us to “climb the tree”—to lift our gaze above the immediate stress and recognize Him hidden right before us. All it takes is an act of faith, hope, and charity to transform three hectic days into three days of profound divine presence. He was present in their smiles; present in their stubbornness (which gently reminded us of our own stubbornness before God); present in our shared meals; and present in the warm rays of sunshine that reminded us of our Creator’s burning love. If the Little Flower says, “Pick up a pin from the ground with love, and you can save a soul,” 3 how many souls might we have saved these past three days if we had strived to remain above the tree of faith?
Despite what a communist and materialistic society may claim about children with severe disabilities, these little angels can achieve wonders when they are built on a foundation of trust and love. We organized the children into service teams with names like “The 101 Dalmatians,” “The Seven Dwarfs,” and “The Little Squirrels.” Although some team members would sit back and forget their tasks, and others would accidentally spill food, their sincere efforts were no different from those of the service teams at our own seminaries! It was lovely to see these little ones serving one another by clearing away their plates, bringing them a glass of refreshing strawberry-banana juice, and bringing a second helping to those whose stomachs were growling with hunger after a long morning in the water.
We enjoyed simple, delicious meals at the villa, but we also felt blessed by the immense hospitality of a local friend of the Hogar. One night, he treated us all to hamburgers, and another night, he welcomed the whole group into his home, delighting us with classical pieces he played on his piano. However, we spent most of our time at the pool. The kids absolutely loved it. Those who claimed they could “swim like fish” did so with the help of three or four floaties, while others—whom I assumed would be terrified of the water—swam with the confidence of Olympic athletes! They thoroughly enjoyed the cool, refreshing water in the desert heat.
It would be an understatement to say that we do this simply out of the human affection we feel for children. We love them because they are the precious sons and daughters of our Heavenly Father, who continually sustains their very being through an Eternal Act of Love. We love them because Our Lord thought of them during His agony in Gethsemane and while He hung on the cross. We love them because we cannot truly know Love without first having been loved by Him.
Between the swimming, the laughter, the delicious meals, and the wonderful hospitality of the friends who welcomed our chaotic group with open arms, this trip was a blessed time of rest. And most importantly, it offered us the opportunity to climb the sycamore tree of faith that stands in our own hearts. By choosing this higher perspective, we overcome the temptation of self-love and the desire to flee from the Cross. In doing so, the noise of our surroundings fades away, and we hear the gentle voice of Christ speaking directly to us: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Mt 11:28). These last three days have undoubtedly been days of rest, despite all the work that has been done, and this is due to the grace that allows us to contemplate Our Lord in all things. The reality is that the supernatural is more real and more true; that is why “only those who are silent are listening. And only the invisible is transparent.” 4
To go to the Beloved who seeks us, we must first climb that little tree so we can see him; only then will we hear: “Hurry and come down, for today I must stay at your house” (Lk 19:5). A single glance from above is enough. And the definitive gaze from above that Our Lord chose was that of the Cross. Only by choosing this perspective with the eyes of faith in this life will we one day enjoy the Eternal Gaze, where we will contemplate Him just as He is.
- Rev. Christopher J. Seith, Rejoicing in Creation: Josef Pieper’s Response to a World of Online Distractions, CUA Doctoral Dissertation, Washington, D.C. 2020. ↩︎
- P. Miguel Fuentes, IVE, Comentario al Evangelio de San Lucas, Editorial APOSTOLADO BÍBLICO, San Rafael 2015, p. 410. ↩︎
- Saint Thérèse of Lisieux, St. Thérèse of Lisieux: Her Last Conversations, trans. John Clarke (Washington, DC: ICS Publications, 1977), p. 649. ↩︎
- Josef Pieper, A Brief Reader of the Virtues of the Human Heart, p. 12. ↩︎
