Idle Grace, and the Survival of the Unfittest

Dear family and friends,

The month of August has always been for me, since childhood, so much fun and so carefree, that I look forward to it every year. I feel restored and deeply relaxed, just because it is August.

But the August that just passed was the most bitter I have endured,

It is difficult for the reader to imagine what Haiti is like- because there is very limited or no news published. Haiti is a country of deep anguish, lived out in the shadowy edges of human concern.

The entire population is in agony.

The number of internal refugees, fleeing the terrorist gangs- not once but over and over again, is recently published at 1.3 million. The number of kidnappings, the number of brutal killings, is staggering.

As the dangers and deep isolation of the Covid period subsided, at the end of 2019, we started seeing the surge in kidnapping and gang organized crime. This has grown exponentially over five years, virtually unopposed, and is now a malignant cancer destroying the country on all levels. The gangs have infamously earned the designation, by the community of nations, of international terrorists.

The tragic poverty of the people, the deplorable living conditions (especially in the muddy rains), the hunger and sickness which grind people to death, the humiliations from the poverty and violence are all unbearable. 

We have managed over these years, and not without deep personal losses, to stand at the side of the people by continuing to receive the children into our schools, the desperate sick into our hospitals and clinics and  therapy centers. Front line help to individuals and communities has still been our hallmark.

For the past five years, our work, my work especially, has evolved to rescue.

Rescue of kidnapped people, rescue of orphanages, convents, schools from behind enemy lines, rescue of priests from hospitals under gunfire or schools set ablaze, rescue from draught and hunger, to name a few.

Someone whom we managed to free from kidnapping two years ago, recently wrote about how long it has taken him to become a person again, after the cruel ordeal. His story is terrible, his courage extraordinary, and his writing about it is heroic. 

He mention from the outset that his life was saved by "a priest who came out of no where and faced great danger to save him, without even knowing him."

I wrote to him (when I found the way), and I complimented him on his noble badge of courage.

I also let him know priests don't come out of no where, and we are formed in the words of Jesus at the front door where he says "my brothers and sisters and mothers are everyone who needs me."

Of course I knew him. He is my brother. 

I just didn't know the details of things like his name, where he lives, what he does, how old he is.

But I also assured him, that for as much as the victim surely has their wounds and wild story to tell, no one may realize it, but the rescuer does not come out unscathed.

Shortly after his human captivity ended, during which (and to his great anguish) his wife died of cancer and was buried, I saw the Orthodox Icon that I post with this reflection, called Christ in Prison.

Jesus certainly knew what it was like to be taken in bondage by other humans- and worse. 

When I look at this image, I think of every kidnapped person, of every child slave, of everyone trapped in sex industry, every detained immigrant, or any person that has become an abused commodity. 

In the icon there is a beautiful but sad graciousness, a noble redness, a golden glow around the mind and the heart. It is as if Grace is there, but cannot do anything other than be present. Amazing Grace. Idle Grace. A Grace that does not, as one could wish, break the teeth of the oppressor. 

The weeks leading up to August were troubling because people were being kidnapped from international organizations. It was a marked turning point. We were involved in the efforts to free two different groups of internationals.

On August 3rd, our international organization was the victim. I can write briefly about it but I can never express the anguish. For sure those who were kidnapped have their story and anguish, but we were all living through impossible weeks.

We had eight kidnapped from our orphanage in the mountains, a director with six staff and a three year old child. Before long we had two more kidnapped from the same place, both directors.

They were kidnapped by one of the most violent and erratic gang leaders. We received constant threats of torture and death threats against them, and were forced to listen to our beloved staff pleading to us for their lives.

There were two worse trials. 

One was, when we tried to evacuation the orphanage from Kenscoff to Tabarre immediately after the kidnapping, we were warned by the kidnapper gang that they would shoot at the children if we took them out. And we were warned that if we tried to evacuate them with the help of the police they would kill our kidnapped staff.

The orphanage was held hostage in the middle of a battle ground between police tanks and gangs at war, with bullets hitting the buildings in our compound and explosion from drones in the near distance.

The second difficulty was, we were also under gang attack here in Tabarre. Bandits were all around us, especially at St Luc Hospital entrance area. People were wounded by bullets, killed, kidnapped, robbed. We thought at the time there was a concerted gang effort to destroy us. We lived in dread of being raided, burned, fire bombed.

To this day, weeks later, we still cannot use out front gate. We have rerouted the entrance to the hospital, by busting through the wall of a contiguous property. Even at that, the gangs still rear their ugly heads.

We finally realized there was no intention against us at all.

We were just suffering what EVERYONE ELSE in the country is suffering.

We are all suffering the concerted effort to destroy a nation.

I have a detailed journal of everything we tried, every call we made, every help we enlisted, every gang leader I sought for back alley help, every advice we listened to, to secure the release of our beloved team. But this isn't the place for it. This is the place for something much more important.

Here is the ancient teaching about the halo, the light of the icon of Jesus in Prison, the light around those in distress.

In terrible moments, as in all moments, we each are the gatekeeper of our thoughts and of our hearts and our will. 

These are our three huge spiritual powers: our vision, our longing, our decision. 

We can allow the darkness around us to fill us, and take over these three powers.

Or we can allow the light to fill us, persistent yet gentle, and guide these powers.

Only we, with the help of Grace, can choose the light.

I can choose to see our barren front gate as the sign that evil always wins in this life. This is a dark choice.

I can choose rather to see that the world belongs to God, God made it, it belongs to God, and we are His people.

We do not belong to gang leaders. The world is not theirs to do as they please. It is God's, and so are we, and this violent aberration will pass.

With this choice of how I “see” it, despair becomes hope.

With my heart, I can chose the darkness of hatred and resentment. I can foment a radical desire to attack, divide and destroy. 

Or I can choose to cultivate, to even treasure, the idea that we all can be saved.

Yes, with just and civilized punishments for wrongdoing, and strong condemnation of hateful behavior, but with hope to save the person- even if from behind bars.

When this is what I “long for,” hatred becomes mercy.

I can choose to run for higher ground, to shelter in place, to carve out my safe place.

Or I choose to be deeply involved, to do what is still possible to do, to face directly whatever is assaulting life and love.

I can choose, like Jesus did, to set my face like flint to oppose evil and defend goodness. Even if, like Jesus, I have to sweat blood.

When I “choose” to be involved, isolation becomes solidarity.

The darkness of wrongness causes a soul sickness. We can no longer see clearly with our deepest eye of wisdom, we become sluggish and slow and empty of zeal in our hearts, we trip blindly over our own destructive choices,  we forget any instance of love in our past, and live without trust in life, but rather bitterness.

But the light of Grace preserves the healthy eye of intuition and inner vision, makes the spiritual blood warm with striving and enthusiasm, it guides us against all traps, it awakens our memory of goodness and makes us trustful of life, of God, of destiny.

This is how myself and many, many people survive difficulties. It is a vital part of the art of living. It’s how I made August return.

August ended well for all of us. We are all freed from external and internal anguish.

We have no guns, no bullet proof clothing, no tinted windows. We are quite unfit for the battle against evil. 

And we are not naive to hard times ahead. 

We are just well helmeted- with the bight halo of Amazing Grace!

Let is take in this light! It’s free, for the begging. And all around us.

From the well known hymn:

"Then hear, O Gracious Savior, accept the love we bring,

that we, who know your favor, may serve you as our king,

and whether our tomorrows,be filled with good or ill,

we will triumph though our sorrows, and rise to bless you still!

To marvel at your beauty, and glory in your ways,

and make of this, our duty, a sacrifice of praise."

Thank you for your loving support, and life saving donations.

May God bless us with inner and outer peace.

Fr Richard Frechette CP DO

Port au Prince, Haiti

October 2, 2025 Feast of the Guardian Angels