I am grateful to the editors at Plough Publishing for keeping me in mind when the publish a title with "Catholic" interest; last year I received the very moving biography of Jean Vanier, which went to press just as the great man was dying. Vanier, of course, devoted his life to the marginalized, first of Europe and then of the world. Stronger than Death could almost be a companion volume.
Written by Rachel Pieh Jones, an American with a long experience of expatriate life in Somalia, this is the biography of an Italian woman who, like Vanier, also made a choice to consecrate her life to the marginalized, but the marginalized people of a part of the world that many would consider itself marginalized, even godforsaken: Somalia.
Among the poor of Somalia, among the victims of its political instability, its wars and its clan violence, TB patients were the poorest of the poor. People with TB were so marginalized that they and their kin would do anything to deny the condition. TB being what it is, the delay, denial, or interruption of treatment gave the disease more time to spread. Desert culture and nomadic lifestyle only added to the challenges of treating the contagion.
Stronger than Death is a vocation story, though not in the usual pious Catholic sense. Annalena Tonelli fits no prior categories. She was celibate and poor, but without vows. She was immersed in community, but lived as a hermit. She was as contemplative as Mary at the Lord's feet, but outdid Martha in the "many things" she accomplished. She was, perhaps, raised up by God to show the modern world, so tempted to trust in money and strategies and organization charts, what one person motivated by love can do.
In reading and praying, I came to realize that Annalena was conformed to the heart of God the Father in a special way. She made God's love present concretely to the people of Somalia and Somaliland. That's all she was about. And that concrete, effective love was sustained by a life as austere as anything we read of the ancient desert contemplatives. Actually, they would probably salute her as far surpassing any of their ascetical feats, for she spent her days in the care of the material needs of her children and patients, while continually living the Gospel command to have no anxiety about food or clothing or life itself.
The Lord allowed Tonelli to live a bit off-center from the Church's norm, as he did for Simone Weil. And yet the bishop not only provided her with the Eucharist, he practically foisted the Blessed Sacrament upon her: "You will know what to do." Sharing her bare dwelling with the Lord helped keep her anchored in Risen One while the Master continued to conform her to himself through her daily praying of the Bible. But the main thing is that she lived a unique union with God's heart, conforming the rest of her life and relationships to the demands of that love. And she did this with such simplicity and self-forgetfuness that she couldn't fathom why others were unable to do what she was doing and with the same intense devotion.
Of course, they had not been enraptured with the ideals of radical poverty as teenagers by reading Gandhi, as she had. They had not begun to train themselves early on to function on four hours of sleep, on a thin mat; to take two simple meals (if you could call them that) as her nourishment; to put the other first, always...
Her life among Muslims, supporting them in their faith without ever making an attempt to convert them might scandalize some Christians. She refused to live as a Muslim (only wearing a loose veil in one district where it was otherwise impossible to engage with the people), but like Blessed Charles de Foucauld and the Blessed Martyrs of Algeria, she lived as a neighbor among them. She did not mouth the Muslim prayers in order to satisfy external expectations of compliance, but withdrew to her hermitage for her own prayers. After her assassination by the embryonic Al-Shabab terrorist group, when her body was transported to Nairobi, an unknown Muslim placed a cross on the casket. Everyone knew who, and whose, she was.
Stronger than Death is a book that challenged me on every page. It challenged me through Annalena's uncompromising gift of self; her casual disregard for certain tenants of Catholic life and practice that I cherish; her incredible capacity for sacrifice. It challenged and educated me on international affairs and the complex relationships between NGOs (nongovernmental organizations, for example, the International Red Cross) and the needs and values of local populations; it challenged any naive confidence I had in governmental integrity, and so invited me to question just what it is that I am protecting when I am tempted to dissemble, even in the slightest. Above all, meeting Annalena Tonelli through the testimony of those who lived and worked with her so closely through the years (thanks to the author's dogged research and interviews), I was brought to my knees more than once to thank the Lord for his outpouring of grace upon this unusual woman, a Dorothy Day of the desert, and to ask him to open my heart to receive at least a trickle of the love and mercy that had suffused her soul.
Disclosure of Material Connection: Some of the links in the post above are “affiliate links.” This means if you click on the link and purchase the item, I will receive an affiliate commission. In addition, I received a review copy of the book mentioned above for free perhaps also in the hope that I would mention it on my blog. I am committed to giving as honest a review as possible, as part of my community's mission of putting media at the service of the truth. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”
Written by Rachel Pieh Jones, an American with a long experience of expatriate life in Somalia, this is the biography of an Italian woman who, like Vanier, also made a choice to consecrate her life to the marginalized, but the marginalized people of a part of the world that many would consider itself marginalized, even godforsaken: Somalia.
Among the poor of Somalia, among the victims of its political instability, its wars and its clan violence, TB patients were the poorest of the poor. People with TB were so marginalized that they and their kin would do anything to deny the condition. TB being what it is, the delay, denial, or interruption of treatment gave the disease more time to spread. Desert culture and nomadic lifestyle only added to the challenges of treating the contagion.
Stronger than Death is a vocation story, though not in the usual pious Catholic sense. Annalena Tonelli fits no prior categories. She was celibate and poor, but without vows. She was immersed in community, but lived as a hermit. She was as contemplative as Mary at the Lord's feet, but outdid Martha in the "many things" she accomplished. She was, perhaps, raised up by God to show the modern world, so tempted to trust in money and strategies and organization charts, what one person motivated by love can do.
In reading and praying, I came to realize that Annalena was conformed to the heart of God the Father in a special way. She made God's love present concretely to the people of Somalia and Somaliland. That's all she was about. And that concrete, effective love was sustained by a life as austere as anything we read of the ancient desert contemplatives. Actually, they would probably salute her as far surpassing any of their ascetical feats, for she spent her days in the care of the material needs of her children and patients, while continually living the Gospel command to have no anxiety about food or clothing or life itself.
The Lord allowed Tonelli to live a bit off-center from the Church's norm, as he did for Simone Weil. And yet the bishop not only provided her with the Eucharist, he practically foisted the Blessed Sacrament upon her: "You will know what to do." Sharing her bare dwelling with the Lord helped keep her anchored in Risen One while the Master continued to conform her to himself through her daily praying of the Bible. But the main thing is that she lived a unique union with God's heart, conforming the rest of her life and relationships to the demands of that love. And she did this with such simplicity and self-forgetfuness that she couldn't fathom why others were unable to do what she was doing and with the same intense devotion.
Of course, they had not been enraptured with the ideals of radical poverty as teenagers by reading Gandhi, as she had. They had not begun to train themselves early on to function on four hours of sleep, on a thin mat; to take two simple meals (if you could call them that) as her nourishment; to put the other first, always...
Her life among Muslims, supporting them in their faith without ever making an attempt to convert them might scandalize some Christians. She refused to live as a Muslim (only wearing a loose veil in one district where it was otherwise impossible to engage with the people), but like Blessed Charles de Foucauld and the Blessed Martyrs of Algeria, she lived as a neighbor among them. She did not mouth the Muslim prayers in order to satisfy external expectations of compliance, but withdrew to her hermitage for her own prayers. After her assassination by the embryonic Al-Shabab terrorist group, when her body was transported to Nairobi, an unknown Muslim placed a cross on the casket. Everyone knew who, and whose, she was.
Stronger than Death is a book that challenged me on every page. It challenged me through Annalena's uncompromising gift of self; her casual disregard for certain tenants of Catholic life and practice that I cherish; her incredible capacity for sacrifice. It challenged and educated me on international affairs and the complex relationships between NGOs (nongovernmental organizations, for example, the International Red Cross) and the needs and values of local populations; it challenged any naive confidence I had in governmental integrity, and so invited me to question just what it is that I am protecting when I am tempted to dissemble, even in the slightest. Above all, meeting Annalena Tonelli through the testimony of those who lived and worked with her so closely through the years (thanks to the author's dogged research and interviews), I was brought to my knees more than once to thank the Lord for his outpouring of grace upon this unusual woman, a Dorothy Day of the desert, and to ask him to open my heart to receive at least a trickle of the love and mercy that had suffused her soul.
Disclosure of Material Connection: Some of the links in the post above are “affiliate links.” This means if you click on the link and purchase the item, I will receive an affiliate commission. In addition, I received a review copy of the book mentioned above for free perhaps also in the hope that I would mention it on my blog. I am committed to giving as honest a review as possible, as part of my community's mission of putting media at the service of the truth. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”
