To the Band of Brothers: June 7, 2023

I have discovered through trial and error that one of the most charitable words in the English language is actually “no.” I know that may seem like a contradiction since charity means to give of oneself to the other and that “yes” seems more appropriate, but we shouldn’t turn a simple blind eye to its antonym. “No” can very possibly be as charitable, if not more so, than “yes.”

 

While not the most popular word, “no” has the power to change lives in ways that can be unexpected and oftentimes unimaginable. For a very long time, I tried to avoid having to say it out of a false sense of kindness, but my years of experience have proven it is not always the case. Many times, permitting certain things or consenting to particular asks out of a fear of saying “no” or in an effort to be nice, ends up blowing up in your face. More often than not, simply saying “no” from the beginning, while not the more popular response, may be the more compassionate and formative answer in the long run.

 

Here are some personal examples (of many) where I found “no” was best.

 

When I turned 13, my father told Miguel, the guy who for years came to mow the lawn, his services were no longer required. My father had gone out and bought a lawnmower and weed eater, placed them in the garage, and then instructed me how to use them. I was now the official landscaper of the García-Tuñón household. The expectation was that two Saturdays a month, I would mow the lawn, trim the hedges, and weed the gardens. It was grueling work and I missed Miguel terribly.

 

After a couple of months of Saturday morning chores in the heat and humidity of Miami, I asked my father for an allowance for mowing the lawn. I had found out how much he paid Miguel and figured I was owed at least some of what he was saving. My father said, “no.” He kindly reminded me of tuition payments, food and clothing purchases, golf lessons and green fees, and summer excursions to Naples, Florida. His “no” placed on my radar what I was clearly taking for granted. His “no” was a reminder of what he and my mother were providing for me already, including the opportunity he was providing me to give back.

 

Here’s another. At the end of my sophomore year at Belen, I started looking at the electives I could take in my junior year. I wasn’t yet very clear about what I wanted to study in college. I signed up for the AP Psychology class that Dr. Brian Wentzel was teaching. For a couple of reasons, Dr. Wentzel didn’t accept me in the class. He basically said, “no.” I went to see him and pleaded my case. He again said, “no.” Instead, I ended up taking Peer Ministry. It was in this class I fell in love with helping out in retreats, learned to appreciate my faith more, was given the tools necessary for good public speaking, and, eventually, discovered my vocation to the priesthood.

 

Last one. In 1995, I was finishing my studies at Fordham University in New York. The Jesuit provincial was in town visiting. We sat to discuss my future and at one point asked if I had thought about where I wanted to study theology. For years I wanted only one thing… Rome. I had written a long list of reasons why the Eternal City was the place for me: the heart of the Catholic Church, the city where Sts. Peter and Paul were martyred for the faith, an opportunity to spend some time in Europe, to learn another language, and to live just a stone’s throw away from the resting place of St. Ignatius of Loyola. He said, “no.” Instead, he sent me off to Brazil. Brazil was not even on my radar, but off I went. It was in Brazil where I learned to speak a language, I use more often in Miami than I would Italian. It was in Brazil where I worked in a favela (slum) with a loving community where we eventually built a chapel (the Our Lady of Belen Chapel is not my first). And it was in Brazil where I was sent for missionary work in the Amazon, preached Christmas sermons on the island of Marajó, and deepened friendships with Jesuits from all over Latin America.

 

When I look back, I realize I have gotten more out of “no” than any other word. It is in part because of that word that I have become the man I am today. There is no question I am very grateful for each of the “no’s” I have gotten, but, more importantly, grateful for the people who had the insight and courage to say them. It may not always be easy to say it or accept it, but in the long run, it may definitely be for the best.

 

Auspice Maria,