A Personal Reflection from a Secular Franciscan in the Face of State Violence and Ecclesial Silence
“They dress the wound of my people as though it were not serious. ‘Peace, peace,’ they say, when there is no peace.”
—Jeremiah 6:14
April 20, 2025
Today marks a sobering anniversary: the birthday of Adolf Hitler. A day that should remain buried in shame now pulses with renewed relevance. In a world increasingly seduced by authoritarianism, cruelty, and control, the shadows of fascism stretch once more across our public life. That I must even name this date as spiritually significant speaks to the depth of our descent.
I am no longer in a moment of political disagreement. I am living in a season of moral collapse. And far too much of the Church is whispering when it should be weeping, shouting, and standing in the streets.
As a Secular Franciscan, I am called to live the Gospel—a Gospel that embraces the poor, confronts the powerful, and walks with the crucified. And today, in 2025, that Gospel is being mocked, co-opted, and buried under the rubble of authoritarianism.
I write this reflection with grief, clarity, and holy defiance.
I. I Lament What Is Happening
I lament the loss of my faith in justice and the Supreme Court’s moral integrity.
Once a symbol of balance and accountability, the Supreme Court now appears as a political instrument, elevating ideology over impartiality and power over principle. I no longer trust that the highest court in the land serves the common good. Instead, I see decisions that deepen inequality, roll back civil rights, and dismantle long-held protections for the vulnerable. My faith in justice is wounded.
I lament the disintegration of democracy and the renewed assault on voting rights.
Through legislation like the SAVE Act (H.R. 22), restrictive ID laws, purges of voter rolls, and gerrymandered districts, this coordinated effort targets people of color, women, the poor, and the young. What is done in the name of “election integrity” is, in truth, an attempt to silence the very voices that most need to be heard. It is not only a civic crisis, but a spiritual one.
I lament the dismantling of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives across our institutions and military.
This is not about neutrality or fairness. It is a strategic retreat into exclusion and a calculated rejection of justice. The dismantling of DEI is the legitimization of racism, cloaked in the language of “colorblindness” and “merit.” It denies the lived realities of Black, Indigenous, and People of Color and silences those who have long been pushed to the margins.
I lament the growing machinery of mass deportation.
Masked, unnamed agents remove neighbors in pre-dawn raids. ICE interrogates children in schools. Detention centers expand. Venezuelan asylum seekers are deported to third-party countries with no legal standing. These are not isolated acts but a system of fear and erasure.
I lament the destruction of the Public School System.
A sacred trust is being dismantled through budget cuts, censorship, gun violence, and ideological surveillance. I lament the book bans, the attacks on teachers, and the rise of ICE presence in schools. I mourn the inequity between districts and the criminal neglect of poor, disabled, immigrant, and LGBTQ+ students.
And I lament that in this moment of crisis, the loudest educational priority from many bishops is school voucher expansion—a policy that accelerates the abandonment of public education while ignoring its collapse.
I lament the silence of our bishops.
They speak boldly about abortion, but remain mute on the sufferings of the immigrant, the worker, the prisoner, the mother in poverty—the very people Christ placed at the center of His Gospel.
I lament the desecration of creation.
Our national forests are being stripped by deregulation. Environmental protections are gutted. The cry of the Earth is ignored as the vulnerable suffer first and most.
I lament the collapse of the public health system.
Public health infrastructure is being dismantled just as crises mount. The mentally ill, the poor, and the chronically ill are left behind.
I lament the betrayal of workers.
Workplace safety protections, including NIOSH funding, are being rolled back, sacrificing lives for profit.
I lament the criminalization of dissent.
Protestors, journalists, and whistleblowers are surveilled, silenced, and smeared as threats to the state.
II. I Proclaim What I Believe
I believe that the Gospel of Jesus Christ is incompatible with authoritarianism, cruelty, and the exploitation of religion for power.
I believe in the dignity of all life, not only the unborn, but the poor, the sick, the undocumented, the incarcerated, and the forgotten.
I believe that Catholic Social Teaching demands not silence, but action—justice, solidarity, and mercy in public life.
I believe that Saint Francis would not bless these systems. He would be among the undocumented, the deforested, the evicted, and the dying. So must I.
III. I Commit to a Franciscan Path of Resistance
I will not be a chaplain to empire.
I will not remain neutral in the face of terror.
I will not trade truth for access.
I will not confuse the Cross with a flag.
Instead, I commit:
- To protect immigrant families through accompaniment and sanctuary.
- To name injustice—especially when done in Christ’s name.
- To organize my fraternity as a space of resistance and healing.
- To pray without ceasing and act without delay.
- To weep when others shrug. To rise when others retreat.
I may not be able to stop what is unfolding. But I will not be complicit. I will not let the Gospel be gagged.
This is not just about politics.
This is about faithfulness.
This is about the soul of the Church.
This is about who I will be when history remembers me.
I am a Secular Franciscan.
I walk with the wounded Christ.
And I will not look away.
Pax et Bonum.
Mike
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I believe “the pen is mightier than the sword.” Thank you, Mike, for putting into words what we have not been able to speak. Your words give me hope. Thank you.
Linda Freeto, Waco, Texas
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