General Convention Remembers Oscar Romero as “Prophet and Martyr”

By Noah Bullock

On March 24th, 1980, a sharp shooter parked outside the open doors of the cancer hospital chapel, La Divina Providencia in San Salvador, with a single, silent shot, assassinated Archbishop Oscar Romero. 

Oscar Romero was appointed Bishop of San Salvador under the assumption that he would not be a protagonist in tumultuous and dangerous times.  As Salvadoran society descended into violence, Romero spoke out against both insurgent and government violence and called for national reconciliation. In the bloodshed that led up to the civil war the bishop emerged as one of the most powerful voices in defense of human rights, peace and the poor of our time. From his final months to his murder, Romero held no illusion about the threat against his life and he came to believe that his death was inevitable. He was convinced that he would have to give both his life and his death to the people in order for them be moved to work peacefully for a fair distribution of power and wealth.

Today, visitors can see artifacts of Romero’s life and ministry at a small museum that the nuns at the Divina Providencia maintain. In my last visit to the hospital in May a nun the pointed out a new statue of Romero outside the house where he lived. The statue was donated to the hospital; upon receiving the gift, the priest in charge had the words “Oscar Anulfo Romero, Prophet and Martyr” cut into black iron letters and hung on the wall behind it.

The nun told me when they added those words to the statute people in the church began to criticize Romero calling into question the “prophetic” nature of his message, work, and ultimately, his status as a martyr. While Romero was alive he accepted criticism and persecution as inseparable responses to speaking truth to power.  He said, “persecution is something necessary for the Church” because “the truth is always persecuted.” In his life and his death, the truth that Romero spoke was a testament to the poor, the exploited and the marginalized.  Contemporary criticism validates that this truth is no less threatening to the modern stewards of systemic injustice and inequality than it was in Romero’s time.

The nun at the hospital also explained that in response to the criticism from conservatives in the church, the priest added a second phrase below the original inscription on the wall so that it now reads, “Romero, Martyr and Prophet, the poor called him without preventing judgment from the church.” When seen from the perspective of those whose rights he defended, Romero’s legacy as a prophet and martyr is indisputable. My tiny guide concluded as much, noting that the critics were quickly quieted after the addition of the second phrase.

Thirty years after his murder, the victims of structural poverty, violence, and exploitation have not disappeared.  For that reason, the memory of Romeo’s truth must not either. This past week at the General Convention in Anaheim California, The Episcopal Church voted to include Romero in the calendar of saints that the church celebrates each year. This was a significant move in defense of not only the legacy of a saint, but our contemporary struggle to hear the voice of the once voiceless and understand their cause as our as our common cause to bring about a more humane world.

March 24: Oscar Romero, Archbishop of San Salvador, 1980, and The Martyrs of El Salvador