It’s Sunday afternoon in Washington, DC and I’m sitting in the corner at the coffee shop a block from the monastery. It’s been so cold here the last few days, and we’ve gotten six or seven inches of snow which, everyone is reminding each other, is uncharacteristic for January in DC. As I walked down the hill from the monastery gate, the sun made the snow shine - glisten, actually - and the noon bells from the Basilica were ringing like crazy in the distance. This is a pretty typical Sunday for me, to be perfectly honest, but today the usual sense of sabbath joy is replaced by something else.
When I left my room, I saw a post on Instagram from the account washingtonianprobs sharing the news of the shooting death of a guy named Ryan Realbuto from Upstate New York. What a sadness it is that we’re so used to seeing the news of someone’s whole life ending - and a piece of the lives of so many others being carved away in the blink of an eye - and we just keep scrolling. However, something about this story caught my attention.
You can read the entire Washington Post article here.
Ryan Realbuto, 23, graduated from St. Bonaventure University in New York and decided to spend time with the Capuchin Franciscan Volunteer Corps in Washington, DC. He and other young men lived in community not far away from where I’m living now, and served as missionaries at the Don Bosco - Cristo Rey High School in Takoma Park. (If you’re not familiar with the Cristo Rey mission, find out more here. It’s excellent.)
The Post reports that
the group’s motto is “living simply,” and the volunteers each get a $125 monthly stipend and live in a communal residence, “sharing the highs and lows of their day, learning of the cycle of poverty and from each other’s experiences, and how to break it.”…
Realbuto volunteered at Don Bosco Cristo Rey High School in Takoma Park, Md., a Catholic college-preparatory school just outside D.C. that helps at-risk students in a work-study program.
Cantwell said Realbuto was “growing and coming into his own” during his time in the District and had talked about remaining in the city when the program ended in July, possibly to teach or go back to school. Cantwell said Realbuto had a “great laugh,” and in turn brought laughter from his friends.
From everything I’ve been able to find online, especially the news as it’s being reported by the local affiliate in his home area in New York, Ryan Realbuto was the real deal in terms of Christian witness: friends describe him as “beloved,” with a joy and innocence about him. Never claiming to be perfect, Ryan still showed so much of his heart by deciding not only to spend this year in missionary service to underserved and underprivileged youth, but by sharing with his family that once the term of service ended that he hoped to stay in DC and continue working with the poor.
I’ve just finished reading The Long Loneliness, the personal memoir of Dorothy Day, the Catholic social justice warrior queen and co-founder of the Catholic Worker Movement. When asked if she could summarize the work of her movement, she quoted her co-founder and lifelong friend, Peter Maurin: “God meant things to be much easier than we have made them.” They wanted to make the world a place “where it is easier to be good.”
Ryan Realbuto was putting his money where his mouth is and doing what he could, with the skills and opportunities right in front of him, to make the world a place where it’s a bit easier to be good. And he was doing it joyfully. That’s a way of life I sincerely desire for myself, and I sincerely want to live around others doing that. It’s what the Gospel requires of us, but it’s also what the Gospel fosters for those who choose to live it.
Here’s the irony: Ryan and his friends were on their way home from Adoration at Immaculate Conception church in the Shaw neighborhood of DC. On Thursday nights, IC hosts a holy hour with adoration, confession, and praise & worship followed by a reception for young adults. I know about it because I’ve been to it many times during my sojourn in DC, and going there “incognito” - not dressed as a priest but as a young adult - I felt so welcomed there.
The irony is that on Thursday night, in DC and around the country, holy hours were taking place in solidarity with those marching peacefully in Washington and other major cities to promote the dignity of human life. Less than a mile from where Ryan was killed, the Basilica whose bells greeted me today played host on Thursday night to almost 10,000 pilgrims for the annual Vigil for Life Mass, which takes place every January the night before the March for Life on the National Mall.
I wasn’t at the holy hour in Shaw on Thursday night, so I can’t know this for sure. But I can almost guarantee you that during the holy hour there would have been some petition, some meditation, some discussion about the work of the pro-life movement. Ryan Realbuto was someone who exemplified the best of the pro-life cause: anti-abortion, yes yes of course; but so much more than this! Working and praying, even unto death, for the dignity of all: the poor among us, the marginalized, those without opportunity simply because of the neighborhood or circumstances they grew up in. And going about the work as someone relatively unheard of; beloved to his friends and the people who knew him, paying attention to the needs of those on the street where he lives, understanding that the world changes when hearts change, and hearts can only change one at a time.
Was Ryan and his group discussing these things while they walked home? Did Ryan have some inner sense of peace that night as to his own dignity and worth? Did he leave IC feeling the love and attention of the Father, the same love and attention he strove so often to show to the poor with whom he worked? Did he die that night having been convinced of the weight and beauty of his own life? Not sure.
I didn’t know Ryan Realbuto. Maybe I sat next to him at Immaculate Conception in Shaw at some point and didn’t know it. I don’t want to canonize him or glorify his death. But the irony - the paradox - of what the Catholic world in Washington was up to that night, and of the way in which Ryan decided to live his earthly life, and of the way he died…the irony is almost too much.
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the land.
Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be satisfied.
Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the clean of heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of evil against you [falsely] because of me.
Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven.