Homily of Fr. Vicente Louwagie, OMI, in Funeral of Father Lorenzo Rosebaugh, OMI

St. Cecilia Parish - Zona 7, Mixco, Guatemala

Guatemala, May 20, 2009

Brothers and Sisters,

All of us today as a community, as a family, feel small, regardless of where we are from, astounded by what the Church has experienced unexpectedly in Playa Grande.

I come on behalf of the Oblates as Provincial, also on behalf of the Superior General and the Provincial of the United States, to tell God, “Thanks for the gift of Lorenzo. Thank you, Lord, for giving us a different companion - a mixture of St. John the Baptist and St. Francis of Assisi.”

That long hair, that smile, the gray in his beard are unforgettable. But I think much more of his eyes. Calm eyes that became sad when we spoke ill of another, deception, exploitation, sometimes between the same brethren. And eyes that sparkled when he talked about children, when he spoke of God, and when he sat in the morning to meditate and to write his thoughts.

We as a community dare to call ourselves Oblates, from the Latin word for “offering.” Our founder when he started the community in France said in a letter, “I do not want candles on the verge of being extinguished. I want people to be on fire, priests in love with Jesus and his Gospel.” Lorenzo is one of them.

He began his life in the United States as a newly ordained priest, teaching in a high school, a prep school. From there he asked permission, much like Mother Teresa of Calcutta, to seek another situation – that of the workers, of the unemployed, to be among those who had no future. In the U.S. there is a community known as The Catholic Worker, Catholic Workers. There he lived among them.

From there he went to jail where he spent more than five years. He was there for protesting against the institutionalized violence, the weapons, the arms race in the United States. He went to jail fully aware that he was giving his vote, his presence, as a “NO” to hate, to the sale of death through weapons, and to the slavery and suffering that stem from that.

The next time I met Lorenzo, I was in Salina Cruz in 1973. He came to Salina Cruz from North America by bicycle. I confess that it seemed crazy to me. How can a “gringo” who speaks no Spanish and did not yet know Portuguese go by bicycle from Minnesota to Recife, Brazil? Is this madness or is it faith? Is it self-giving? Or. ..? Well, we washed his clothes; he was very skinny, having already travelled thousands of miles.

We gave him food and he went on to Recife, where he soon landed once again in jail. Why? Because at night, living with people who had no home, not even a house in the shanty-town, he made a soup with what they brought from the market, the vegetables that they could not sell. All came and ate and drank this concoction there. And of course he became popular and the military government considered him a threat. He appeared suspect.

It is dangerous to love! Yes, that’s why Jesus died. The example of one who loses common sense and puts a higher priority on the brothers and sisters than on material goods is too strong. That turns our world upside down. These must be silenced!

He returned. They let him out of jail, and he returned to live for some time in the United States. Then he came here to Guatemala in 1997, if I remember correctly — to start another phase in his life. He was in Playa Grande. There I got to know him again. He is the only Oblate I know who had a monkey as a companion - a monkey. Yes one of those monkeys who live in the trees. And I do not know who had more fun - the monkey or Lorenzo … Yes! For just as this little creature would hang from its tail, Lorenzo would put himself upside down with his feet up as well. And he had no problems talking to me like that. It’s another dimension of the world. Only a few dare to do that at 65!

Thus Lorenzo enjoyed his way of being – a very special freedom. Freedom to express himself in his own style, mixing Spanish, Portuguese, and English in one language – and we were nourished by that tossed salad. The language he spoke and which he shared with us was love. A love which did not fear for himself, nor for his way of being, nor for his example.

He returned to the U.S. for some years to take care of his Mom. I think that was in 2000. During his time there he wrote a book, which still is not available in Spanish. The title is To Wisdom Through Failure – A Journey of Compassion, Resistance, and Hope. This is the title; this is the book. A commentator says: “This is the story of compassion and hope seen through the eyes of an Oblate missionary who walks from jail to the streets.”

While there, he also participated in a program of Spiritual Direction in a monastery of the Benedictines. As part of this work, a teacher said, “I want you all to write what you want to be published or printed as your epitaph - in the cemetery or for those who come after.” Lorenzo wrote this, “Today we sat down [or we feel] with great joy in heart and soul, feeling the spirit dancing in the heavens, dancing in the universe, seeing the martyrs, going up in their Harley Davidsons” – so he says - “on the way to fulfillment in the great encounter. The heavens roar as we approached Mary and she leads us to the sites of Paradise.”

A unique vision of a person who mixed beautiful things with deep pain. And he felt and found God in every moment, in every place.

A few days ago he wrote to me. He had received an order to go to the United States in December to retire – he received that order about 10 days ago from the Superior General. He sent me a letter - unfortunately I do not have it here – consisting of paragraphs with some errors in spelling, some missing periods and commas, all in the style of Lorenzo - but a very simple and beautiful message. He said, “I have learned a lot in Guatemala. I have learned a lot from the people, from my brothers and from God. I am happy and grateful.”

I had written to him in a previous letter: “I think you still have fuel to do more missionary work in the United States.” And he answers me in this letter, “I will work again with the Catholic Worker, I will live with them as one of the community to participate in their life and work.”

He, like St. Francis of Assisi yesterday, shares life, the tears, the hopes of the people. And there he finds God. It is an experience of being on fire. No two people are alike, no two days are alike.

I asked for this page (which rested on his coffin), and I’ll end with it because I believe in what the children say. We have here a drawing of a hand and two messages. I do not know who the authors are. I will read the first: As children write, the first word “gracias” comes in very large letters. “Thanks for everything you did for us, all the children in the hospice. We’ll always remember you.”

And what comes next, “And we are sure that we’ll always hold you present in our hearts because you are part of our family. We ask that you take care of us all from heaven. We know and realize that you’ll be very happy with our Lord. Remember you always live in each person who shared happy and sad times with you. We will not forget our great friend. We know that God’s children are special. Therefore you will enjoy sharing and interacting with all our loved ones who have already left.” And in large print at the end, “Father Lorenzo, we love you very much.” And here go hugs and kisses.

And the other writing, one we know, more formal. I think these are the feelings of Lorenzo today. “I raised my eyes to the hills, where they keep my comings and goings from now and forever. Amen.”

We feel - and I have written this to our Superior General - a feeling shared by all: “We have lost a brother, we have gained a saint.”