“We are joined with generations of persons, past and present, pursuing a more just, peaceful, and hope-filled future.”
Kat Brown '10, MA '16, serves as the Director of Mission and Identity Programs.
Each year, Ignatian communities around the world commemorate a solemn anniversary: November 16 marks the date in 1989 on which six Jesuits, along with their housekeeper and her daughter, were assassinated at their residence at the Universidad Centroamericana (UCA) in El Salvador. These Jesuits were targeted for their advocacy for the poor and marginalized of El Salvador during the nation’s civil war. They spoke not only as persons of faith, committed to human dignity, but as academics who believed a Catholic, Jesuit university has a responsibility to actively work toward justice and reconciliation.
I first heard the story of the UCA martyrs as an LMU undergraduate. At the time, their prophetic witness—a deeply rooted faith motivating a commitment to justice so strong it could not be shaken by political opposition or violence—forever shifted my own understanding of what a life of faith could look like, and what it might make possible. But today, working at a Jesuit university as a professional, I find the UCA martyrs’ story even more resonant. I return often to the words of Fr. Ignacio Ellacuría, SJ, rector (president) of the UCA at the time of the murders. Some years earlier, Ellacuría had delivered a speech in which he described the responsibility of a Catholic university:
“What then does a university do, immersed in this reality [of suffering and injustice]? Transform it? Yes. Do everything possible so that liberty is victorious over oppression, justice over injustice, love over hate? Yes. Without this overall commitment, we would not be a university, and even less so would we be a Catholic university.”
This vision drove Ellacuría and his companions; it led to their martyrdom.
The challenge of these words has never left me. On some days, taking them seriously is daunting. I’m often doubtful I have the courage to live them out.
But they also remind me that as a member of the Ignatian family, I am never alone. Last May, I accompanied a group of LMU faculty and staff on an immersion trip to Guatemala. In the western highlands, we visited the Quetzaltenango campus of the Universidad Rafael Landívar, a Jesuit university serving this largely indigenous region. The campus rarely receives visitors from U.S. universities, and while its leaders welcomed us with hospitality and warmth, they were also curious: why had we come?
As we settled in, I was invited to introduce the group and offer some insight into our visit. After a few sentences in clumsy Spanish, I switched to English so our translator could more accurately convey my thoughts. I explained that LMU was a fellow Jesuit university and that this immersion was an effort to better understand and live out our mission. The trip was inspired, I said, by the work and witness of Ignacio Ellacuría.
As soon as I spoke the name, even before the translator had a chance to chime in, a murmur went up around the room. Faces brightened and heads nodded. The atmosphere shifted. Suddenly we were no longer strangers, despite our many differences of language and culture and nationality. Instead, we could recognize each other as companions, possessing a shared inheritance and a common mission.
This encounter at the URL is a powerful reminder that studying or working at a Jesuit university means membership in a community that spans centuries and continents. We learn from those who have gone before us and are strengthened by partnership. Challenges, and maybe even catastrophes, will come. But we are joined with generations of persons, past and present, pursuing a more just, peaceful, and hope-filled future. May the memory of the UCA martyrs inspire and strengthen us to build this future together.