Friday, April 06, 2018

Holy Week 2018


Holy Week was full of blessings, sorrow, surprises, and more. Here are a few highlights.


 There were the parish-wide celebrations that I attended – the Parish Stations of the Cross on the Friday before Holy Week, the Palm Sunday procession and Mass in Dulce Nombre, the Holy Thursday Mass of the Lord’s Supper, and the Easter Vigil. (I wrote about the Stations in a previous post.)


On Sunday we sent out about 33 parishioners to visit homes in communities, as part of a parish mission. It went well, though there were moments when I felt as if I was losing it - trying to match up people and communities. I had prepared assignments, but some people didn't show up and some new people showed up.

On Monday, i visited the sick in two communities. More about this below. But in San Agustín, I came across a "procession of cattle" in the streets!


On Tuesday, we had a retreat for the youth. I had hoped for a large crowd, but we had a good group of about 33 young people from five communities. We walked through several of the events of the Triduum. We washed each other’s feet; we venerated the cross in church; we prayed a decade of the rosary with Mary at the cross; we prayed the resurrection at the tabernacle (which sits before a representation of the empty tomb).



Thursday, after the Chrism Mass in the morning in Santa Rosa and before the Mass of the Lord's Supper in the evening in Dulce Nombre, I went to Concepción for a Celebration of the Word with Washing of the Feet and Communion. They had prepared a beautiful sawdust carpet in the church.


Friday I got up early and headed out to Debajiados, where I accompanied a small group in their Stations of the Cross. I noted that some of the kids (mostly two boys) were making crosses out of twigs and putting them in the ground. One of them gave me a cross.



I have a soft spot in my heart for Debajiados. This is especially so after the death of a twenty-some year old delegate of the Word a few years ago. He was also in formation to become a communion minister. Juan Ángel was one of those gentle souls, whose death deeply affected me, especially since I had gone with him and his son to bring communion to his parents on the day after my diaconal ordination. He was poor, living in a dirt floor home on borrowed land.

As I left one of his sons, ten-year old Ever, asked me for a ride up the road so that he could go to their coffee field for firewood. He got in the front seat and we began to talk. He’s in sixth grade. I asked him about continuing to study and he told me he wanted to continue but would have to go to a distant village, Moscaronal, for classes. I told him to let me know if there were any costs to help him continue studying. He them told me how some people had given him his boots and his jeans. We talked about being grateful and about the need to help around the house. I see in him a grateful child, fairly intelligent, and a worked for his family.

I then went to another village – about 90 minutes from there. I stopped briefly t home to have a light lunch and then headed out to Colonia San José Obrero, where I presided at the Celebration of the Passion.

During the Veneration of the Cross I noticed that an older woman had not approached the Cross. I brought the Cross to her, where she prayed for a few minutes. She was blind.


Saturday, I went into Dulce Nombre early, after push-starting the truck, and helped with preparations for the Easter Vigil.


Because of the number of people we expected the Vigil was held in the park in front of the church. 


Following the blessing of the Easter Fire a few blocks from the church, we processed to the park where I tried to sing the Exultet (mini-disaster) and we listened to all the readings with their responses sung. We started about 5:30 and ended about 10:00 pm.

At the Vigil, it was quite moving to witness the baptism of about 49 mostly young people. Most were thoroughly baptised – with lots of water.


Yet, most of the blessings were connected with visiting the sick and elderly in four communities.

On Monday I went to one community. With one of the delegates we visited two older men in a distant part of this village. At the first, relatives of the wife were visiting. We talked for a while and then, when the old man came out to the porch, we had a short Celebration of the Word and I shared communion with the old man and his wife’s family.

I consider it very important to affirm the relatives and friends who attend the sick. So, during our prayer, I spoke to the wife, mentioning how she – like Veronica who wiped the face of Jesus on his way to Calvary – wipes the face of Jesus when she cares for her husband. One of her relatives was moved by the reference to wiping the face of Jesus when one wipes the face of the sick and elderly. This is so much a part of my diaconal spirituality that I was surprised to hear her remark and grateful to God that I could open her to this dimension of care for the ill and the elderly.

The greatest blessing, though, came visiting a man is Plan Grande with terminal cancer. Friday, after Stations in the morning in one community and the Celebration of the Passion in the afternoon in a different community, I went to Don Efraín’s house with communion. As I entered the darkened room, he greeted me. We sat and talked, with his wife at his side. We prayed and I gave him communion. He told me with a great tranquility that he was prepared to die. I have never talked with someone who was so ready to meet his Maker. I felt as if I was experiencing the resurrection at his bedside on Good Friday.

Visiting several places, I was filled with sorrow, witnessing the poverty and the isolation of the sick and elderly.

In San Agustín, I visited a man who lives alone, having experienced a stoke about three years ago that leaves his right side paralyzed. Leaving his house, I met an elderly woman who lives next door. Later, talking with one of the women who went to San Agustin for the Holy Week mission, I found out that this old woman will sometimes bring food to this man as well as to another home-bound partially paralyzed man who lives further up the road.

In one community that I visited with a delegate from another part of the parish, we visited a 98 year old man who lives alone, except for a teen-aged granddaughter who helps. We arranged for him to get washed. What is amazing is that he is lucid and still has a fair amount of strength.

In that same community, we listened to the deep divisions there as well as the sorrow and resentment. There are residues of precious killings there. In addition, recently one person attacked the house of another person with rocks and more. It is a place living out the worst of Good Friday. Padre German called it the Syria of our parish.

There were some personal difficulties – twice the car wouldn’t start. First time, on Thursday morning, the battery was replaced, but that was not the real problem. Friday evening it also wouldn’t start. Monday, I went into Santa Rosa and they repaired the alternator. I had to return to Santa Rosa on Wednesday to check the brakes and have the oil changed. I am back again, today, Friday to get the radiator checked since there seems to be a leak somewhere.

I do have to mentioned that there was another great joy.

Even though my car didn’t work, I went to La Entrada on Sunday, by bus, to have lunch with the Dubuque Franciscan sisters who are here in our diocese (four from the US, one Honduran). It was great to share with good friends, two of whom I’ve known for more than 25 years. 


There was also great food – including a fantastic peanut butter chocolate pie!



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