by Father RomanowskiNote: This is a piece that was printed in the Catholic Star Herald quite a long time ago! Kept in his scrapbook amid clippings of football and baseball heroes, Our Fr. Romanowski gave this to me to reprint on the website. I apologize that it's taken me too long to put it up. As my kids are now in bed (finally) I have the chance to retype the article now.
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Santa Helena de Goias, Brazil--When I have problems, I let a combination of prayer and imagination straighten things out. Starting out as a missionary in Brazil presents some problems.
I think a person with a particular problem in a particular field ought to ask an expert in that field about it. If I wanted to know something about defense, I would ask Robert McNamara. If I wanted to buy a nice side of beef, I would ask an expert on sides of beef--a housewife.
I asked St. Paul about being a missionary.
He looked tough! He was very squat, but had a hard looking body like a stevedore.
What a face! Character was chiseled into it: a little bald, homely, to say the least, but the face had the appearance of a man who had seen what we all want to see. He looked like a marine--a soldier of Christ, but what ascetical eyes in contrast, peacefully piercing, wild and restless. They looked like they could light up the whole universe. And I thought to myself--the face of Burt Lancaster with the eyes of Bishop Sheen.
It was funny how comfortable I felt with him. The same way I feel after reading one of his letters. It's not a comfort that makes you want to relax, but to act.
Father R.: If you were a missionary today, St. Paul, how would your work differ from the work in your own day?
St. Paul: The physical hardships of living were far greater in my day. For example, I had to do many miles of roadwork on foot to arrive at many of my destinations. The food was poorer. Force was supplied by animal or human automation. We used up a lot of time in just existing. Today, however, the missionary ought to encounter (aren't they using that word a lot lately) countless more individuals than in my day.
Father. R.: Then you would say there is a great difference in the two?
St. Paul: No, certainly not. The real force of one's life never changes. Christ was then, still is and always will be, the center of a missionary's life. The differences were accidental. IT's how much the missionary loves his work. That's what is important.
Father R.: What gave you the constant zest to do so much for Christ?
St. Paul: There were days when I didn't have that great desire to serve that I had on other days. But I reminded myself then, that it was Paul who was running things and not Christ. The thrill of Damascus kept these days from popping up too often, but they did come. When I realized this I had to change places and put Christ back where He belonged. Then I knew what it meant when I said it was Christ Who Lived in me. By myself I was entirely incapable of keeping the pace that I did. Only by asking for the necessary help from Christ could I sustain the grind.
Father. R.: Here in Santa Helena there seems so much to do. Where would you begin?
St. Paul: First, I would begin with the things I mentioned before--letting Christ have the central place in my life, and then I would let charity be the navigator of the course. Remember, this is the one virtue that can find the ultimate in life, the complete offering of oneself for Christ.
My time-honored remarks about this virtue can be applied to your work here. It's patient, this charity, when you have problems with the language. But keep plugging, plugging at those sermons and instructions, listening and reading. It's kind, when you want to leave a person who needs help with a well worn line or two, instead of taking the time to understand the problems.
[Note: I suspect there's a typo in that last line, but I retyped it as it was from the CSH.]Charity is not envious of the talents of others--learn from them who have been here longer, who know the problems better, who know the language better, who have sweated longer than you, built churches and opened up schools. Learn from the [ones] who have started a program for the poor, brought back hundreds to practicing religion and helped the whole city. This is evident in your new home of Santa Helena.
Remember the one about being puffed up. You might say that I boasted at times about my sufferings, my Roman citizenship, my religious background, my call and my preaching but I always did it for a purpose other than extolling my own virtues.
I gladly boasted about my weakness too, for the same purpose--to extol Christ. And in the same breath, charity does not pretend to be what it is not. I always knew I was a zero on my own. Just look what I did before my jolt from above. Left to myself, I would always have done the same.
Our Lord put it so well when He answered the rich young man. "Why do you call me good, only Christ is good." But this never let me sit in the corner contemplating how bad I was. On the other hand it made me think of how wonderful Our Lord was to allow us to dive into the ocean of goodness and to saturate ourselves in it in order to magnify the real goodness of God.
To me life was always retreating form what you call phoniness and advancing toward reality. That's what made me bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, and endure all things for the sake of Christ. Whatever happened to me I made it benefit the Church, the Mystical Body of Christ, the life of God with us. If you have this attitude, then the work will follow through.
Be interested all the time, in every place and in every way to show Christ to the people. Like the good householder, use new things and old. I had to be imaginative--dealing with so many different types of people. I couldn't use the same methods with the Corinthians as I did with the Ephesians--different types altogether. Yet, the old proven methods, letter writing and person-to-person contact held me in good stead.
Father. R.: Brilliantly spoken. I certainly admire your talents.
St. Paul: Yes, I know you admire my talents, just a shade below those of John Callison, I believe.
Father R.: You are certainly up on things. You even know that. But with all due respect, you never hit 30 home runs against that tough National League pitching.
St. Paul: Yes, you know, we receive the destructions as well as the prayers. And in regard to that last remark, I never struck out over 100 times a season, either.
I always liked to keep up with things. You never can tell how a knowledge of a thing will help you attract a different segment of people to Christ.
For example, I used my knowledge of the Jewish and Roman law to attract these people. Both admired a man for this knowledge. My ability to work with my hands as a tentmaker attracted the tradesmen. My knowledge of athletics attracted the sports-minded. In a race, all run to win. We race toward God, all of us. We should all have the same attitude--to win that race.
Father R.: I'm worried about a couple of things, a couple of defects I have as a missionary. First, there's all this driving that has to be done over those bad roads and secondly, there's my inability to help the poor as I want.
St. Paul: Your driving ability will improve with time. Until then, and really always, we'll get you where you have to go. I traveled the rough trail myself many times, but always made my destination.
Your real problem is to sustain that love for others that only Christ can instill in our hearts, that strong, manly, forceful and aggressive love of others that creates action for Christ.
Ideas on the poor can be summed up like this--help them, coax them, plead with them to help themselves. Restore that dignity of accomplishment to them by allowing them to earn a livelihood for themselves. This means you're going to have to start an ambitious program. People will laugh at you. They'll say it won't work, you don't have the time. It'll work. Pray unceasingly for its accomplishment. Work like a one-armed pizza twirler. Never get discouraged.
Father. R.: There's nothing left to ask. Thanks, St. Paul.
St. Paul: The pleasure was mine, believe me. I really enjoyed spreading the Good News during my tenure on earth. I think I mentioned that in my letter to the Philippians. I had a difficult time choosing what I wanted more--to continue the work or to be with Christ permanently. I can now do both.
Say, I have to be going. I've another appointment with another fellow who has a tougher assignment than you. He's a special kind of missioner--a chaplain in Vietnam.
