First New Testament Reading—Acts 4: 23-31
Second New Testament Reading—Acts 4: 32-37
“On a rain-drenched night,” a group of fifty settlers arrived at the house of Father Arnildo Fritzen. They had been violently expelled from their homes and farms in highlands of Rio Grande do Sol, the southern most state of Brazil. One might imagine that like the early Christians in our first reading they were wondering why this was happening to them. Why must they suffer? Father Arnildo’s house had little to no “heating or insulation,” so the “people…huddled together for warmth.” “Many of them [were] crying.” Like the early Christians in Acts, they turned to the scriptures for comfort and courage. Father Arnildo read from Exodus. He read to them of the hard times faced by the Israelites and how God heard their cry and delivered them from Egypt. He read to them of David and Goliath, and there they found “great strength.”
In the days, months, and years ahead, a solution would have to be found to the crisis they faced. The poor and dispossessed of Rio Grande do Sol were at a crossroad. It is thus fitting that what would become the symbolic representation of the turning point in their struggle is an actual crossroad located in a rural area not far from Father Arnildo’s house. Today, the surroundings of the crossroad are not auspicious. Writers have compared them to farmlands in the gently rolling hill country of Iowa. The crossroad stands in a small valley dominated by corn and soybean fields. A creek and a small reservoir are nearby along with a “scrap of woods.” Not far off there is an abandoned store and a shack from which soft drinks are sold. “The nearest small town is more than ten miles away.”
At this seemingly obscure place, known today as Natalino’s crossroad, stands a memorial to the beginnings of what is now the largest poor people’s movement in Latin America, if not the world. The movement is synonymous with an organization called the Landless Workers Movement. Roughly a million people—men, women, and children—are currently members of this organization. The story of how this movement came into being in the years that followed the rain-soaked evening at Father Arnildo’s house is one that bares some distinct similarities to the story of how the early Christian movement developed. The context of poverty and inequality is one key similarity. The early Christians found themselves amidst a Roman Empire that was sharply divided by class. Over ninety percent of the population were of the poor peasant and artisan class. One to two percent were part of the ruling elite. The remainder served this elite as soldiers, officials, servants, and the like. Likewise, it has been said that in Brazil “the country’s fundamental problem is inequality.” Scholars Angus Wright and Wendy Wolford state that “by most measures, Brazil has the largest gap between rich and poor of any sizable nation on Earth.” Whereas 15 percent of Mexicans live in absolute poverty, a third of all Brazilians “fall in this category.” To put it another way, “nearly a third of all Brazilians, approximately fifty-five million people, live on less than two dollars a day.” These inequalities result in good measure from the unequal distribution of land in Brazil. “More than 50 percent of the nation’s agricultural land is controlled by just 4 percent of [its] landowners.” The settlers had huddled in Father Arnildo’s house precisely because they had been on the loosing end of the stick in the cutthroat struggle for landownership.
When the Landless Workers Movement eventually came into existence, it effectively addressed this root cause of economic inequality, and it was at Natalino’s crossroad that a catalytic event in the story of its birth took place. There are different versions as to how it all began. The crossroad is now named after a man who goes by the nickname Natalino. According to him, he one day simply set up a camp at the intersection to demand a resolution to a grievance local people had with the government. Soon others would join him to form an encampment. However, according to Father Arnildo, who acted as a community organizer for the encampment, there was never a single solitary act of defiance such as the one Natalino describes. From the beginning, it was a highly planned, collectively organized event.
Regardless of which version one accepts, a central lesson remains from what took place. As individuals, the poor and disenfranchised of the area had little power when it came to acquiring and holding land. The powerful landowners could always manipulate the courts and the government to their favor or simply resort to violence without fear of repercussions. The solution, however, was to act collectively, to “occupy land in sufficient numbers to make their removal” difficult. Organized in this manner landless peasants could turn the law in their favor. They could claim the right to uphold a constitutional law which specified that one could lay claim to land that did not serve a “social function.” In other words, one could lay claim to land if it was not being used.
So it was that Natalino banded together with a growing number of peasants at a crossroad near a piece of “land whose ownership and use had a long and disputed history.” The initial response to this act of civil disobedience came from the military police who “surrounded the encampment and threatened violent action.” The hired gunmen of the landowners would soon join the police. Attacks then came, arrests were made, beatings were administered, bayonets were viciously wielded, and shacks were burnt to the ground, but still the people remained. In this way, the peasants were again like the early followers of Jesus who faced persecution and imprisonment. In fact, Natalino’s crossroad at one point came to symbolize Jesus’s cross itself. Yet, like the early followers of Jesus, the story of these Brazilian peasants has become a story of hope for people throughout the world. Now, Natalino’s crossroad can also be seen as symbolizing the resurrection of an impoverished and despairing people. But this would take time. It would take sacrifice as well as the rising tide of a new consciousness. The camp had to endure disease-ridden conditions, death, and countless obstacles. Meanwhile, the awareness and support of people throughout the region and country had to be galvanized. So it was that after three and a half years of struggle, the encampment finally won its demands.
This victory was critical to the future formation of the Landless Workers Movement which has successfully repeated the tactic of land occupation over and over again. The extraordinariness of the Movement’s accomplishments has been undeniable with “twenty million acres of agricultural land” being redistributed to 350,000 families. That is 350,000 families who have managed to work their way out of depths of poverty. In addition, these families have worked to collectively achieve dramatically improved education and healthcare. Ultimately, the crossroad that was once a site of relentless struggle and difficulty is now a landmark commemorated in joyful celebration and thanksgiving.
What was it that made this possible? How did Natalino’s crossroad go from evoking the crucifixion of a people to the resurrection of a people? Some insights for answering this question come from learning about how people in the camp were able to survive and in some ways thrive on a daily basis. First, like the early Christian movement, people in the camp learned how to share what they had in order to survive. It might have taken countless meetings, but they made it work. And, camp life was not solely about laborious committee work. They had a “fun and animation committee” that creatively worked to find ways to boost people’s morale. Kind of like our Parish Life Committee. They additionally had groups that would meet to reflect upon scriptures and in the process work through difficult issues by honing in on shared values and beliefs. Kind of like our Bible Study group. Then, on a daily basis, they worshipped. They held an ecumenical mass for all. And, finally, every day there was also a special meeting at the foot of a cross. A pair of writers have described it this way:
“In the late afternoon, people would gather around the cross to discuss the day’s events and the problems that faced them. In the first days of the encampment, they had gathered around a small wooden cross, which had carved into it the command, ‘Save your soul.’ As time went on, the families began to feel that this small cross with its message of individual heavenly salvation no longer represented their calvary, which, after all, was more a journey of earthly salvation and of an entire community of people joined together. They fashioned a large, heavy, rustic cross and substituted it for the original. People often attached ribbons or notes or flowers to the cross to memorialize events in the long struggle.”
Thanks to Marnie Wright and Daryl DeSilva we have a visual representation of those crosses here. Later I will tell you about how you can each contribute your own ribbons to the cross during communion as a way of recalling moments in your own life when you have been at a crossroad between struggle and transformation.
In some ways, our church as a whole is at a crossroad right now. We are at a moment where the need for physical repairs requires that we make a decision about our future. While this crossroad might at first provoke feelings of dread and despair, the peasants of Brazil have proven that people who come together with a common faith and purpose can transform their situation. What at first looks like a cross of burden can become a cross that unites us in faith. Sure, there might be trying times, but there will also be some fun and animation along the way. Sure, there might be moments of doubt and uncertainty, but there will also be moments of growth and development. At the crossroad, we have the opportunity to commit ourselves to a bright future, a future full of promise and potential, a future that will leave our children with the gifts of our labor. Let us therefore gather around the cross and discover the beauty and power of our faith together as a people. Amen.