Coming to the end of Lent

Holy Week is upon us. Summer, the dry season, is also beginning. It has been dry and hot, and there is plenty of dust. But that doesn't mean that the land doesn't bring forth beauty. Almost every time of the year has its flowering trees and bushes. Here's how it was a few days ago from my home.

But I've been busy, as usual.

Last Thursday our pastor went to San Agustín to celebrate the feast of La pastora, Mary the shepherdess, a unique feast of Mary found in Spain and here in San Agustín. He left me to work with the missionaries who will be visiting several communities in the parish during the first half of Holy Week.

On Friday Padre German presided at a Mass here in Plan Grande to mark the end of the novenario for Miguel Ángel, nine days of prayer in the home after the burial. Miguel Ángel was nineteen years when he died. He has had many health problems. But in January, he disappeared. He did not recognize his parents and wandered off. His family began an extended search – which ended finding his body in a morgue in San Pedro Sula about March 8. He had died near Copán Ruinas on January 30, from a head wound. It isn’t clear whether he fell from a truck or was hit by a truck. He carried no ID, but thanks be to God they identified him by his fingerprints. Otherwise, he would have been buried in an unmarked grave.

I went to one of the nights of the novenario in the home of his parents. I noticed heads of garlic braided hanging on a beam. His father told me how he was very good at selecting garlic for planting and harvesting. It was good to hear Don Pedro talk about his son, with affection.

I remember him. He had prepared for confirmation one year but got very sick and couldn’t get out of bed. The next year he was confirmed. He was a simple young man – with special problems.

Saturday was Parish Council. Our pastor left me with several tasks since he had some meetings. But gratefully he came at the end to deal with some difficult situations.

Later Saturday afternoon I went to a meeting of some people with the pastor in Dulce Nombre preparing the liturgies and popular devotions for Holy Week.

After the meeting I headed to Dolores with the pastor for Mass. I preached and stood by as he prayed the third scrutiny over six young people who will be baptized at the Easter Vigil.

Sunday morning, I went to Vertientes for a Celebration of the Word with Communion. I purposely went there because they have five elect who will also be baptized at Easter. I presided at the Third Scrutiny.

After the celebration I went to visit the sick, bringing Communion to an old woman confined to bed and to a blind old man. One of those to be baptized is the grandson of Don Gustavo and lives where his mother cares for his grandfather. I tried to impress on him the importance of showing love to his grandfather and also telling about his upcoming baptism.

The feast of St. Joseph, March 19, is Fathers’ Day here in Honduras. Being neither a father of family or a father in the church was not an impediment to celebrating it with the people.

I started out accompanying our pastor to visit a 98 year old man in one of the most distant villages. He was sitting up in the dirt-floored kitchen of the house where at least one of his sons also lived. After confessing him, Padre German asked his wife about their state in life. He asked both of them if they would like to get married in the church. Yes, though it was hard to understand Don Fausto. They were married right there. He was anointed after the wedding ceremony. Father hadn’t brought consecrated hosts and so said a short Mass using a low table for the altar. So moving.

We then went to the nearby town of San José El Bosque to celebrate their feast day. Padre German heard confessions for about 45 minutes, followed by Mass in which I preached. What I found interesting was the large number of men in the congregation. In fact, I think almost half of those attending were men.

Before Mass, I was in my usual rare form – talking with people, joking with them trying to find a little about their lives. I sat down with a few men by the back of the church, talking a bit about fathers’ day. A young man mentioned that he was with a woman and they had a little girl. I asked him if he was married – as I also asked a few of the other men there. I then said, “Why don’t you get married?” They were surprised – but in a very good-natured way. I didn’t have time to pursue this with them since the Mass was about to start. But I still continue to wonder (and, at times, marvel) at the presence of men with a wife and family who are attending Mass but aren’t married. I hope my jocular way of asking about this stirs some to seriously consider marriage.

Tuesday, I had to go to San Pedro Sula to renew my permission to be in Honduras. I am in the middle of seeking permanent residency and so have to get extensions every two months or so. This time, Sister Nancy had asked if she could go with me. With great joy, I said yes. It’s always great to have time with one of the Dubuque Franciscan sisters. We arrived at the Immigration office at 9 am and were out by 9:45 – which must be a record! Then we had lunch, went shopping in a large grocery store (even by US standards), and drove back. A long but good day.

Wednesday, I worked on the parish Stations of the Cross. We’ll celebrate them in Dulce Nombre on Friday and I had to get them done so I can go to Santa Rosa on Thursday to get them printed. I should have done this way before – but I’ve gotten into the bad habit of procrastinating. (Does this mean I’m getting more Central America?) I did finish them and you can find the text in Spanish here.

Thursday I passed by the parish and Padre German reviewed the Stations. When I arrived he was working with about twenty men digging a trench by one of the buildings, since the basement has been flooding. 

After he reviewed the Stations, I took them to Santa Rosa de Copán to be photocopied since it’s cheaper there. I used the trip to get some food shopping done and to drop by Weekend’s for a pizza.

Back in Plan Grande, I led the Holy Hour. At the end of the hour, I blessed the small congregation with the Host in the monstrance. I’ve done this a few times, but each time I find myself praying that the blessings of Jesus in the Eucharist may pass to all corners of Plan Grande. I feel as if God is blessing all of us here, not just in church, with his presence.

Tomorrow, I’ll leave early for the parish Stations of the Cross in the streets of Dulce Nombre. Holy Week has begun.