A Maryknoll sister honors the pastoral workers who risked their lives during Chile’s military dictatorship.
As I took my seat on line 1 of the metro in Santiago, Chile, where I serve in mission, my mind wandered through the myriad activities of the past year. Music, poetry and theatre events commemorated the anniversary of a very sad time in Chile’s history. Last year marked 50 years since a violent military coup led by Augusto Pinochet installed a dictatorship responsible for the deaths and disappearences of so many people — 1,159 of whom remain missing to this day.
When I arrived as a newly professed Maryknoll sister eight years after the takeover, Chile’s reality was one of fear, oppression and growing poverty. Living in the poblaciones (shantytowns) among Chileans most affected, I learned who these wonderful people were.
The Maryknoll sisters arrived in Chile in 1950, and in only a couple of decades we spread out across cities and rural areas from north to south. We served in education, research and investigation, health care, pastoral ministry, youth centers, mental health and work with women. We walked with the people every day in difficult situations that put them — and us — at risk.
That was why I was on the metro. I was on my way to a ceremony at the Museum of Memory and Human Rights for an event to honor the religious, clergy and dedicated laypeople who had offered their lives to bring about a new and different Chile — among them, Maryknoll missioners.
Serving in poor places, Maryknollers were connected to leaders who were lifting their communities out of poverty — and who became targets of the regime.
Many of us were called upon at some moment to take a stand. As thousands of people were detained and tortured as political prisoners, it was impossible not to. “What would Jesus do?” was a question we held as a mantra to give ourselves courage.
Maryknoll Sister Margaret Lipsio helped save the lives of a young couple hunted by Chile’s infamous secret police. She was forced to leave the country in 1975.
During the dictatorship, Chile’s Church became a true refuge for those undergoing persecution. We knew ourselves to be part of an extended family. We took care of each other. So much so, the government began to consider the Church a threat and those associated with it as dangerous.
The Jewish community, the Lutheran Church and other Christian denominations joined with the Archdiocese of Santiago to form the Committee for Peace. Its mission was to document what was happening and to support individuals in life-threatening situations. The committee evolved into the archdiocesan Vicariate of Solidarity, an organization offering protection to the persecuted. It sent a message: “We are here and you can count on us.”
I walked along the street toward the museum. I remembered faces: the faces of those we served; our neighbors and friends; people in the groups we worked with; people with whom we had onces — the Chilean tea break around 6 p.m.; the faces of people we loved and to whom we gave ourselves daily.
The gathering at the museum was entitled “A Time to Give Thanks.” The invitation read:
“It is time to give thanks to those valiant men and women who contributed in saving the persecuted from prison and certain death. Those who felt the call to denounce the atrocities against human rights, ending up at times victims themselves of the same persecution.”
I walked down the long entranceway to the museum, which is dedicated to preserving the memory of the Chilean people who suffered under Pinochet’s dictatorship. On the outside walls were pictures of friends who were active during those years and who, as the invitation read, ended up as “victims themselves.”
In 1981, the Maryknoll Sisters received the Letelier-Moffitt Human Rights Award. The award honors Chilean dissident Orlando Letelier and his colleague Ronni Moffitt, who were killed in Washington, D.C., in 1976 by a car bomb planted by Pinochet’s regime.
Entering the auditorium, I recognized many faces in the large crowd and heard exclamations as people “found” each other after so much time. There was a feeling of coming back, of coming home. We had lived through something that marked us, formed us and shaped our lives.
The highlight of the service, which included prayer, music, reflections and dance, was the reading of a list of names of religious, clergy and laypeople being thanked for their lives and commitment.
As I listened to one name after another, I thought of all the missioners I have worked alongside. Every one of them came to the poor areas of Chile and stayed because of their love for the people. I could almost hear them say, “I have received so much more than I ever hoped to give.”
Chile is different today from what it was in 1950 when the Maryknoll Sisters arrived, in 1973 at the time of the military coup, or in 1990 when Pinochet’s dictatorship came to an end. The return to democracy brought initiatives for housing, education and access to opportunities previously out of reach.
Yet, economically the country is on a constant roller coaster ride, and the chasm between the rich and the majority has deepened. Drug use has grown disturbingly and the number of gangs associated with narcotics has skyrocketed. Like many other countries, Chile also faces challenges in receiving large numbers of migrants, as well as recognizable changes in climate.
And we can never forget that there are still people who were disappeared and their whereabouts never known. Time has moved on but their loss remains like an open wound. Its pain is echoed in the cry, “Donde están?” (“Where are they?”)
Yes, Chile has changed. We have changed as well. The Maryknoll sisters who gave their lives in mission in Chile are no longer physically here. But their gift lives on. And to the best of my ability, I will be here to represent them. Our mission in Chile continues as long as we “make God´s love visible” in a context that still — so very much — needs that love.
Maryknoll Sister Linda Donovan, a musician, singer and counselor, served in youth ministry and social work. She later worked for the Chilean Conference of Religious in a program for formation directors.
With thanks to Maryknoll Magazine, where this article originally appeared.