In the darkness

It is still dark when my alarm goes off at 5:00 am. I don’t want to get up, make coffee, and get a shower. It’s hard to get out of bed, especially when it’s 55^o Fahrenheit. But I manage to get up and sit down in my prayer room, with a cup of coffee and, sometimes, the electric heater.

It’s been dark here during the day. There has been a lot of rain and very little sunshine. Combined with the low temperatures, life is a bit more difficult for everyone. I complain about my wash taking two or three days to dry, but most endure the cold coming through the doors and windows of their home.

It’s been a bit “dark” for me, since I’ve had major car problems for the last four weeks. But I have the reserves of money to be able to get the pickup fixed. Walking to the bus stop and relying on rides and the bus have made me sensitive to the needs of people.

But the major darkness here in Honduras is the political situation. More than two weeks after the elections on November 26, there appears to be no end in sight. There are serious charges of fraud in the elections and serious doubts about the transparency of the electoral count by the government body in charge, the Supreme Electoral Council (TSE). There are serious charges of manipulation of the counts.

As a result, people in opposition have gone into the streets. There have been a large number of protests, with massive participation of young people. In some protests, some roads have been closed by protestors, sometimes burning tires in the street to prevent passage.  These protests have been largely without violence, though there have been some cases of looting and random violence. I don’t know how much this can be attributed to government infiltrators or common criminals taking advantage of the instability, but almost all of the protestors have, for now, put aside violence.

Yet, there has been violence by government forces, mostly the military and the military police. From what I have read, there have been a few more than 15 killed by government forces. Also, these forces have occasionally used live ammunition against peacefule protestors.

About a week ago, members of an elite police unit, the COBRAS, took to their barracks, publicly stating that they didn’t want to kill or repress their fellow Hondurans. They were joined by other members of the National Police. This lasted for only a day but it shows that there are concerns within the police about the use of repressive violence.

In addition, there have been a number of deaths in the parish recently, several from cancer. But there have been two related deaths due to vengeance killings. How painful it is to see the darkness of vengeance afflicting a community  and to hear of other cases where people are seeking vengeance – often because of a failed justice and police system in the country.

Where to find hope in the midst of this?

This morning I came across this quote of Pope Francis from December 7, 2016:

“Hope is very important, because it does not disappoint: optimism disappoints, hope does not. We need it so much, in these times that seem so dark, in which we sometimes feel lost in front of the evil and violence surrounding us, in front of the suffering of many of our brothers and sisters. We feel lost and also a bit disheartened and powerless, because this darkness seems never-ending.
“But we should not lose hope, because God, with His love, walks with us and never leaves us alone, and the Lord Jesus has conquered evil, thus opening to us the path of life.
“I do hope, because God walks with me, by my side: we can all say this. He walks with me, holding me by the hand.
“Particularly in this Advent season, which is a time of expectation, in which we prepare to welcome once again the consoling mystery of the Incarnation and the light of Christmas, it is important for us to reflect on hope.”

Where can we find glimpse of hope in the midst of the darkness around us?

My ministry sustains me, especially celebrating with the people in remote villages. There we gather to remember the presence of a loving God, who is there at our side in the midst of the darkness.

A few weeks ago I presided at the funeral of a 97 year old man in Debajiados. I had visited him, at least once, to bring him Communion.  The family and the community gathered in the house and we prayed and sang – and I sprinkled the simple coffin with holy water to remind us of the hope of resurrection we celebrate in baptism.

Two Sunday ago, I had the joy of welcoming 52 people, almost all young people, as catechumens. If they continue the journey, they will be baptized in the Easter Vigil next year.

On the feast of the Immaculate Conception, December 8, I accompanied the pastor to Conception where he had me preach and baptized the 38 children under seven. Amid the noise, the crying an screaming, and even some babies trying to fight me off, we got through – with joy.

Two seminarians here in the parish for three weeks of a pastoral experience, joined he pastor and me to another Mass that day. As we got back to Dulce Nombre, Padre German stopped to visit a very ill young woman.

We enter the adobe house, with a dirt floor, and a stove filling the rooms with smoke. Padre sat down by the bedside of the sick young woman, talked and prayed with her, celebrated with her the anointing of the sick, and then gave her communion. Her parents, her sisters, and a brother stood by. I noticed tears in the eyes of the father and the brother.

The family is very poor, barely eking out their existence. They are renting the house which is in poor condition. A brother of the sick woman spoke to us of how he occasionally walks more than eight hours to Florida, Copán, to get elotes (new field corn) to sell. Now, during the coffee harvest, he walks an hour and a half to a place where he can earn more than with a local coffee grower.

The next day, the youth group in Camalote hosted a soccer competition with four communities participating. The meeting began with a greeting from ta young woman and songs and prayers led by the seminarians and me. I noted during the prayer that one young man knelt. The games went well, though we only stayed for a few hours. But one of the seminarians old me that one of the teams got together in prayer before they began their game.

Yesterday we celebrated the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe. I took the seminarians out to San Agustín, where they will be visiting the sick and elderly as well as having other pastoral experiences. I returned in the afternoon to take them to the nearby aldea (village) of Descombros, whose patron is la Guadalupana.

I preached, noting how Mary had first appeared in the Americas to a poor, indigenous man – not to the political, military, and church powers. During the Mass, Padre spoke forcefully about the current situation here, raising a prophetic (though non-partisan) voice. He noted how a visit to a community early that day there were few people in the church when he arrived. He was told that the people were afraid to come out and also that political tensions were dividing the village.

At the end of Mass, he noted that December 12 is the anniversary of the establishment of Dulce Nombre de María as a parish 61 years ago and that he was going to celebrate Mass in the parish church that evening. He then told how the family we had visited last Friday night, poor as they are, had sent about 60 sweet breads and more to help celebrate the feast day. “From the poor,” he noted, we have received signs of God’s presence - an abundance of sharing.

After Mass, I baptized three kids. They were not as rambunctious as some of the babies in Concepción.

As we left, one of the seminarians noted how joyful I was during the baptisms. I hadn’t noticed that – but God may just be working in me when I least expect it.

So, in the midst of the darkness, God shines little glimpse of light, little sparks of love and hope.

 In this darkness, what is my mission here? Perhaps it is mostly to help these lights shine, to help fan these sparks into torches of hope in the face of darkness.

Now, Wednesday morning, I am off to Camalote to celebrate the feast of their patron, Saint Lucy. May light shine on them as we gather around the table of the Lord of life and hope.