Berkley Center

On March 24, 1980, Oscar Arnulfo Romero, archbishop of San Salvador, was assassinated while saying Mass in a small chapel. Although the bullet pierced Romero’s heart, it was not be able to eradicate him from the memory of the people. If you speak with most Salvadorans—particularly the poor, marginalized, and oppressed—they will say that their monseñor is ever-present and alive among el pueblo salvadoreño (the Salvadoran people).

A brief introduction to Archbishop Romero: he was born to a poor, rural family and entered the minor seminary when he was only 13 years old. At the age of 24, he was ordained a parish priest and commenced his work as a diocesan secretary in San Miguel, El Salvador. In 1967, Romero was named secretary-general of the Salvadoran Bishops’ Conference and also served as the secretary of the Central American Bishops’ Conference. This gave him the opportunity to participate in the Conference of Latin American Bishops in 1968 in Medellín, Colombia, which further united the Church with the poor and their struggles. In 1970, Romero was named an auxiliary bishop and eventually became bishop of Santiago de María in 1974.

The seeds of Romero’s commitment to the poor were sown during his work as bishop of Santiago de María, because it was here that he returned to direct pastoral work with the people. Romero’s priestly ministry was transferred from administrative duties to direct care for the flock. His view of the Church’s mission began to change as he accompanied people who were suffering, dying, struggling to survive, and calling on him to rise up and do something. Incidents like the massacre at Tres Calles were pivotal events that strengthened Romero’s commitment to the oppressed of El Salvador.

In February 1977, Romero was appointed archbishop of San Salvador. Shock and disappointment filled the hearts and minds of many of the country’s faithful, because Romero’s ideas seemed to be stuck in the past. The proposals that came out of the Medellín Conference—particularly those promoting liberation theology and greater lay participation—were difficult for Romero to swallow, and he felt unsure about the challenges facing the Church in Latin America. Many were afraid that he would not have the courage to stand up and fight for El Salvador’s poor; soon enough, however, the people found hope in one of their most underestimated saviors.

On March 12, 1977, Father Rutilio Grande, S.J., was killed along with an older man and a young boy while driving his jeep to preside at a Mass in El Paisnal. A close friend of Romero’s, Padre Grande’s death had a profound impact on the monseñor. It even led Romero to cancel all Masses in the archdiocese the following Sunday and to hold a single Mass at the Cathedral in San Salvador instead. With an overwhelming attendance of 100,000 people, Romero proclaimed to El Salvador that the role of the Church was to accompany its people in their struggle for liberation. Monseñor Romero crossed the threshold. He committed himself and the Salvadoran Church to the poor and the oppressed. He began to be the shepherd for whom the people were yearning.

Ignacio Ellacuría, S.J., one of the six Jesuit priests who were killed in November 1989, while reflecting on the life of Romero, noted, “with Monseñor Romero, God passed through El Salvador.” These were powerful words to describe an imperfect human being. And that is how Romero saw himself: an ordinary, sinful human being.

Romero preached a theology of liberation that called on everyone to commit themselves to the Salvadoran people’s struggle of freedom and justice. He sided with the poor, believing and preaching in a God that identifies with the oppressed. His words and actions eventually led to his assassination. But he was man who strove for justice, equality, peace, and an end to violence. Those who witnessed his transforming homilies or simply heard of him through word of mouth received a glimpse of the impact that his life and ministry had on the Salvadoran community. For many Latin Americans, Romero is a prophet, a saint (although his canonization is still on hold), and the face of Jesus in El Salvador.

Gustavo Gutierrez, the father of liberation theology, stated, “I think that we could say, without exaggeration, that the life and death of Monseñor Romero divides the recent history of the Latin American Church into a before and after.” For the Salvadoran people, particularly those who lived through the violence of the war years, Monseñor Romero is a symbol of hope and change. Interestingly enough, shortly after the assassination of Romero, the FMLN guerrillas become more active in their fight against the military and government. This sparked a war that began in 1981 and continued for 11 years until the Peace Accords. So what does Gutierrez mean when he refers to the life and death of Romero as the before and after of the Church in Latin America?

Prior to his death, Monseñor Romero gave a homily in which he said, “If they kill me, I will be resurrected in the Salvadoran people.” His three years as archbishop of San Salvador and the same three years that led up to his assassination mark an important time for the Salvadoran people, a time in which faith was put into action, in which justice was demanded by the clergy and the poor alike. The people became aware of the harsh realities they faced, but through the help of many in the Church, their eyes were opened to a world in which the poor did not live on the margins of society. They found hope in their belief that God grieved over oppression, and therefore united himself with them in their suffering.

Following his death, Monseñor Romero was celebrated in the hearts and minds of the people. The memory of Romero differs from person to person, but he stands as a constant reminder of hope, courage, faith, and justice for El Salvador’s poor and oppressed.

It is now 2012, 20 years after the signing of the peace accords and 32 years after the murder of Monseñor Romero. There are Salvadorans who vividly remember the years of civil war; they lost loved ones and lived through a reign of terror. The younger generation, however, has little to no memory of the war years, nor do they have any direct memory of Oscar Romero.

Nonetheless, his life and legacy continue to carry profound influence in the lives of Salvadorans. According to Ana Grande, a 30-year-old Salvadoran-American, “Romero matters regardless of the generation. […] For the younger generation, although they didn’t have firsthand contact, it is a remembrance of faith and justice. Others may have lost family members during the civil war and reflect on the courage that each of them had alongside Romero.” Grande, the great-niece of Rutilio Grande, S.J., further states, “Salvadorans in this violence-stricken country call upon San Romero de America in the hopes of converting their gangster children into productive citizens. […] They call upon Romero in times of sickness or in despair. Whatever the case is, Romero is always present.”

Romero’s death has led to his everlasting presence in the lives of Salvadorans, especially those who continue to suffer from gang violence, poverty, and economic inequality. He continues to inspire people because his life remains a testament to the struggles of today. Romero serves as a continual reminder and advocate of the need for social justice.

The monseñor remains close to the hearts of the Salvadoran people. His image can be found in nearly every impoverished and marginalized community: in parish churches, Christian base centers, and even convenient stores. His presence even extends to murals that run alongside the roads of San Salvador. In the words of Father Hernández Pico, S.J., “that presence, that closeness, that merciful attitude to suffering is what the Salvadoran people remember.”