Because the borders were closed between Kenya and Tanzania, I had flown to Kenya via Zambia, and was returning via Ethiopia on Air Ethiopia. After all the passengers were seated on the plane, we suddenly heard a ruckus. I glanced out the window and saw several policemen dragging a man toward the plane.

He was resisting with all that he had and shouting that he would be killed if he were returned to Ethiopia. He was wrestled up the steps, into the plane, and strapped into a seat between two guards. He was sobbing and yelling that he was going to his death. His cries were pitiful. I felt terrible for the man because I knew he was in for a lot of torture before finally being killed, before welcoming death.

Ethiopia was in the midst of a civil war and apparently this man was sought by the then-ruling authorities in Ethiopia. Some Ethiopians were fighting to become a separate country, now Eritrea, and this man was wanted in Ethiopia. The stewardesses were visibly upset. One raced to get a glass of water for the man and I heard her demand of the guards, “Can’t you at least take off his handcuffs so he can have some water?!”

For just an instant I wondered if one of the sympathizing stewardesses would try to help the prisoner before we landed in Ethiopia. Once the plane was in the air the prisoner quieted. He realized all hope was gone. When we arrived in Addis the prisoner was quiet and resigned. He walked off the plane with dignity, knowing that he was going to his death. I felt that I had just witnessed an execution. I bowed my head and prayed for him.

Peace be with you. It would seem that God had something in mind when he arranged a medical consult for you – other than getting medical care. Meeting your bishop in the elevator was no chance encounter. Perhaps it was the cock crowing three times.

You are continually in our prayers.

In Christ,
Jim

I have just remembered how my mind was changed about the death penalty a while back when I saw the movie “The Green Mile”. I knew upon seeing this movie that I would never be able to recommend the death penalty for anyone. I could never be sure that anyone was deserving of such a fate.

You are serving out a sentence you don’t deserve. One can’t help but feel the helplessness of it all. And to read your feelings about this public display of your unjust imprisonment, just hits hard at my heart. I try to put myself in your place. My heart would be so broken. I would be so hurt.

St. Paul’s words about our weakness becoming Christ’s strength spring forward in my mind. He was chosen by Christ to undergo a conversion and to carry His message of hope to all the world. How I wish the Angels would come to you and cut those chains away and release you only to baffle those who watch to make sure you can’t get away. But your voice is not silenced altogether, is it Father?

Perhaps the Angels have already come and have released you so that you can write and tell the world your story and let us hear your voice of strength and hope. We need to hear your voice in prison, Father. You are still a priest and there is much for you to do. And maybe the lady who smiled at you was chosen by God to remind you that He loves you.

I remember you in prayer daily. Don’t ever lose hope.

God bless you Fr. MacRae.

Stay strong- Say a quick prayer for me, I am having a major surgery tomorrow cancer has eaten my bone away in my arm.

Thank you

I prayed for you in church tonite, 5 pm mass at St Catherine of Sienna in NYC

This post had me nearly in tears this morning, so struck by the fact that had my life gone a little differently, I could have been one of the “handlers” you describe. I have written my own post pointing people here, and asking them to pray for you, and for all priests unjustly imprisoned.

God bless you.

Always remember who you are and never let anyone make you less.

My prayers are with you.
Mike

We sometimes forget to see past the external trappings in this case the prison garb and the shackles but the very old and the very young seem to have that gift perhaps because more often than not because they are pure of heart.

No matter how poor we are we can always afford a smile.

A soul I send up the odd prayer for in case he is in Purgatory is poor Oscar Wilde and I think how deeply humiliating it was for him when he was transported on the public railway system in prison garb a man who loved fine clothes and adored beauty.

I hate the sin of homosexuality for what it does to the souls of those who live the lifestyle but I feel great compassion for those who battle with this particular temptation and I feel poor Wilde may well have saved himself from hell when he wrote that beautiful children’s story “The Gentle Giant”.

If you have not read it before see if the library has a copy.I don’t know if your “home” allows family visits but if they do it would be a lovely story to have available for the children to read if they have to wait before seeing their father.
God Bless
Mary