Católicos: Resistance and Affirmation in Chicano Catholic History

Seven: ¡Presente! Father Luis Olivares and the Sanctuary Movement in Los Angeles: A Study of Faith, Ethnic Identity, and Ecumenism

207 seven¡Presente! Father Luis Olivares and the Sanctuary Movement in Los Angeles A Study of Faith, Ethnic Identity, and Ecumenism For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me. —matthew 25:35–36 To know God is to do Justice —jeremiah 20:13–16 When aliens reside with you in your land, do not molest them. You shall treat the aliens who reside with you no differently than the natives born among you; have the same love for them as for yourself; for you too were once aliens in the land of Egypt. —leviticus 19:33–34 A church that doesn’t provoke any crisis, a gospel that doesn’t unsettle, a word of God that doesn’t get under anyone’s skin, a word of God that doesn’t touch the real sin of the society in which it is being proclaimed— what gospel is that? —archbishop oscar romero, 1978 You cannot be witness to human suffering and not be convinced of the existence of social sin. We are all responsible unless we take a stand and speak up. —luis olivares, 1990 on a warm September evening in 1990, a rather large congregation of people of different ethnic and religious backgrounds gathered to honor Father Luis 208 católicos Olivares, the former pastor of Our Lady Queen of Angeles, better known as La Placita Church. Tables were arranged in the public open space by the plaza bandstand adjacent to the Olvera Street marketplace in downtown Los Angeles and directly across from La Placita. Dignitaries such as Mayor Tom Bradley, state representatives who had passed a resolution declaring September 5 Father Olivares Day, city and county officials, who had renamed Olvera Street Father Luis Olivares Street for that day, family members, religious figures from different denominations, movie and entertainment figures such as Martin Sheen and Jackson Browne, as well as friends and colleagues, all came to celebrate the life and accomplishments of this Claretian priest. Also in attendance was the aging icon of the Chicano movement and the farmworkers’ struggle, César Chávez. After greeting one another and mingling in the plaza and enjoying cocktails , the group sat down to a catered Mexican dinner. Father Olivares, looking thinner than usual, but still with a charismatic aura about him, sat next to Chávez, symbolizing their close comradeship over many years. As the affair progressed through dinner, remarks, and songs by Jackson Browne, some began to notice a growing number of what appeared to be homeless Latinos— Central Americans and Mexicans—who began to gather in front of La Placita and outside of the temporary chain-link fence installed to mark off the area designated for the celebration. But the gathering crowd soon noticed Father Olivares and began to call out to him. “¡Viva Padre Olivares! ¡Que viva el Padre Olivares! ¡Padre Luis Olivares! ¡Presente! ¡Ven con nosotros! ¡Queremos Padre Olivares! ¡Olivares!¡Olivares! ¡Olivares!” they shouted in unison. Browne, who was singing one of Olivares’s favorite songs, “For Every Man,” upon hearing the shouts calling for the esteemed guest, stopped singing and said, “I feel it strangely appropriate that I am being accompanied by the voices of people who spend the night in front of the church. . . . I welcome their accompaniment , just as Father Luis Olivares welcomes them.” The audience broke out in applause and invited the homeless to share the meal. Capturing the drama of the moment, Chávez, in his testimony to Olivares , observed in words that could have just as easily been said of him, “You have been with the people in the bad times and in the good times. Your heart is an open temple for those who seek refuge.”1 Not quite three years later, Chávez was speaking again of the goodness of his dear friend and confessor. This time, however, the occasion was the funeral of Father Louie, as he was affectionately called. The scene was not La father luis olivares 209 Placita, which for some would have been more appropriate, but Mission San Gabriel (where Father Luis is buried), managed by the Claretians and located twelve miles northeast of downtown Los Angeles. Within a few weeks Chávez himself would be dead. Father Louie had prophesied...