The hope of Christ the King

“¿Se emocionó?” Padre German asked me after today’s celebration of the feast of Christ the King in the parish. “Did you get emotional, while carrying the monstrance through the crowd after the Mass for Christ the King in Dolores, Copán.

I didn’t answer, but he was right. I was touched deeply.

A custom here is to have a procession of the Eucharist in a monstrance on some occasions, especially here in our parish after the Mass for the feast of Christ the King. During the procession, people approach and touch the monstrance, seeking a physical connection with Christ.

I must admit that I have often been a bit skeptical about this aspect of the popular piety here, but today change that for me.

Toward the end of Mass, Padre German asked me if I wanted to carry the monstrance. I said that he should go first and then I would relieve him.

He started the procession through the crowd and I followed. At one point a little kid stood on a chair and reached out and touched the monstrance. He then turned around and gave me a hug. Emerson reached out a second time and I caught it in a photo.

I followed the monstrance, at time trying to open up a space for people who wanted to approach the monstrance but, because of the crowd or because they were a little timid, had a hard time getting close.

Padre then passed the monstrance to me and I continued the procession.

As they pressed on the monstrance, I could feel a deep longing for God. I also felt that they were bringing their suffering to Christ and sought his comfort and courage. I saw little kids reaching out – sometimes without the urging of their parents. I saw one short older woman approaching and bent down so she could be close to the luna where the host is placed. I sensed a deep desire to connect and so brought it closer to her and she kissed it.

I was floored, at times close to tears. So many, suffering so much, seek to touch God.

It was humbling, seeing their faith – babies in arms, older women and men, kids, adolescents, and young people.

As I think back this evening, I see this as a call to deepen my diaconal presence among them. How can I share in their pain and suffering, as well as their joys? How can I help them recognize the presence of a loving and tender God among them? How can I accompany them, opening them (and me) to the dignity we have and our mission to show forth the reign of Christ in a world full of all too much pain, suffering, poverty, injustice?

As if to ratify this, as I sat at home at the computer, I heard it raining, but I looked out and the sun was shining to the south of the house. I went upstairs and looked east – to see a rainbow which started in a nearby valley.

There is hope – the Eucharist, the people suffering, and a rainbow make that clear.

Celebrating Corpus Christi, the Eucharist

The feast of Corpus Christ, the celebration of Christ present in the Eucharist, is very important for people here in our parish. 

In several places in the parish, where there are Extraordinary Ministers of Communion, the Eucharist is reserved in the town or village church. Most of these churches celebrated the Forty Hours devotion from Friday afternoon to Sunday morning. This devotion, recalling the approximately forty hours between the death and resurrection of Jesus, used to be common in the United States. I remember it from my youth. Here it Is much more common even today. Usually a priest, deacon, or extraordinary minister exposes the Eucharist in a monstrance and people in the town or village take times to be present and pray. I passed by the church in Plan Grande several times during the Forty Hours  - to pray in private the Liturgy of the Hours – and I always found people praying, often in a profound silence.

Since the extraordinary minister in neighboring Candelaria was gone, they asked me to expose the Eucharist for adoration on Friday. I arrived at 3:00 pm in a pouring rain. After exposing the Eucharist, we spent about thirty minutes in silence and in several prayers, including a reading from the Gospel and prayers of Saint Francis and Blessed Charles de Foucauld.

Saturday we had a meeting of the parish pastoral council. During the meeting, Padre German gave an extended catechesis on processions and the sacraments, especially the Eucharist. Recalling the work of Saint Thomas Aquinas he noted that the Eucharist brings, in Spanish, una gracia cibativa, which sustains, increases, develops and repairs life. With this grace we live in Gdd, we let ourselves be loved by God, and we love our neighbor. There was more, but I was impressed, especially with his emphasis on the importance of receiving the Eucharist often. Later, affirming my suspicions, I noted that the Latin word cibare refers to feeding or, in the passive, being fed.

In the afternoon I was going to go with Padre to the sector of San Isidro where they had planned a procession from Yaruconte to Dolores, a walk over dirt roads of several kilometers. But we had to suspend the procession, because of the strong rains which would turn the road into mud – which would be especially difficult ascending a hill. They had had such a procession a few years ago. Here are a few photos, which concluded with Mass and First Communions in Dolores.

This year there was only a Mass that evening in Dolores. Padre German had only four or five Masses planned for Sunday.

Sunday morning I got to Candelaria at 6:30 am to put the host in the tabernacle. As I drove over I thought that maybe we should have a short Celebration of the Word with Communion – even though I had to be in another village at 9:00 am. I thought that it only seemed right that they should have the opportunity to receive the Eucharist on the feast of Corpus Christi. When I arrived, I asked them if they’d like an opportunity to receive Communion. Yes, they replied. So after prayers, including the Canticle of the Three Young Men in Daniel, from Lauds, we had a short Celebration with Communion.

I only used the Gospel in the Celebration and gave a short homily, noting that the Eucharist is Jesus the bread of Life come down from heaven which recalls that Jesus is God made flesh who came down from heaven to be with us. The Eucharist is our food, given to nourish us.  The Eucharist is given to us not only to look on and adore, but as food for our life in God.

I hurried to Bañaderos, giving about eight people a ride in the truck. When I got there I was in my worst “in-charge” mode, trying to make everything work well (as I understood it).

There over seventy people from the sector had gathered – from eight different villages. We began about a kilometer from the church and walked in procession, singing hymns and praying the glorious mysteries of the Rosary. We stopped at five altars where we prayed using themes from the recent pastoral letter of our bishop.

• Deepening our encounter with God through the Word of God.
• Living the sacraments as encounters with God.
• Strengthening the family as “domestic church,’ gathered around the Table of the Eucharist.
• Caring for our “common Home” where God reveals his glory.
• Living the Eucharist in lives of charity and justice.

(The Spanish text can be found here. An English version is here.)

When we arrived at the church, we had a Celebration of the Word with Communion, outside. I was impressed at how well and prayerfully Erasmo read the long Sequence. After Mass, I found out that he has only had three years formal education, but has been reading the Bible and materials related to his ministry in the village where he lives, San Isidro La Cueva.

After Mass, I left quickly since I was planning to go to Mass in San Agustín. Of course, I had a few people in the car.

As I was driving through an Isidro la Cueva, after leaving off several people, I heard a loud noise in the car. I stopped and opened the hood to survey the damage – one of the fan belts was broken and wrapped around a part of the ventilator fan. I removed it and as two young guys stopped to help we found another fan belt that had fallen off. Luckily the car still worked and it wasn’t the ventilator fan belt – just the hydraulic brake and air conditioning bands. So I got home, where I discovered that I had a nearly flat tire – and what looked like a brake line leak. With the help of a neighbor’s son-in-law, we got the tire changed.

Monday I got to Dulce Nombre where the tire was repaired and a mechanic put in two new belts and also replaced two balineras (ball-bearings).  The leak y the tire was oil from the differential which leaked out because of a broken balinera.

Though Sunday afternoon I was a little worried about the car, there was a deeper cause for sadness.

I had been looking forward to Mass on Corpus Christi. Even though I had received Christ in the Eucharist two times, I still had a longing for the communal celebration of the Eucharist. But what struck me in all this was my longing not just to be fed the Eucharist but to pray in a full scale celebration of the Eucharist at a Mass with a community.

I wonder how many of the people here also experience this longing. It is good to receive Christ in Communion, but maybe something is lacking when people don’t have enough opportunities to celebrate together – nourished by the Word of God and the Eucharist around the Table of the Lord.

Corpus Christi in Dulce Nombre

The Eucharist is central to the devotional life of the people in Honduras, especially those in the countryside.

Even though they often do not have Masses in their villages more than a few times a year, Jesús sacramentado is a part of their piety.

This is especially apparent in the holy hours (usually on Thursdays) in the churches where they have the Blessed Sacrament reserved as well as in the processions for the feast of Corpus Christi.

 This year I attended the Mass and procession in Dulce Nombre de Copán on June 2.

The procession was preceded by Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament for Forty Hours in the church of San Antonio in one of the neighborhoods of Dulce Nombre. I remember Forty Hours from my childhood which was celebrated at different times throughout the year, remembering the forty hours Jesus was in the tomb.

At about 9:00 am on Corpus Christi, June 2, a small group of people gathered in San Antonio, began the procession with Padre German carrying the monstrance and little girls putting flower petals on the path before the monstrance.

Along the way the crowd stopped several times to pray. People knelt in the dirt as we prayed for the church, for the parish, and for Honduras.

After the first stop, some came with the canopy to carry over the monstrance.

What I found rather intriguing is that Padre German invited several members of the parish to carry the monstrance - first of all one of the sisters who work in the parish. It would have been quite a burden to carry the monstrance the whole procession, which was along a route of about two kilometers.

The last time we stopped was at 9:00 am, the hour when Pope Francis was beginning a world-wide hour of prayer before the Eucharist. I had printed out the pope's prayer intentions and Padre German asked me to read them.

We entered the church and celebrated the Mass.

During the Mass about sixteen young people were to receive their First Communion. Father called them up to the altar to profess the Creed together, before the assembly.

At the end of the Mass, Padre German called me forward and decided I needed to be doused with water to celebrate my birthday the day before. Luckily, the day was warm.

These are the types of celebrations where I find my faith nourished, by the simple faith of the people, as can be seen in the face of this altar boy, praying the Lord's Prayer during Mass.

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A collection of Corpus Christi photos from the last five years in the parish of Dulce Nombre can be found here.

Eucharistic piety among the poor

Catholics in western Honduras have a deep devotion to the Eucharist. Despite the fact that most villages may not have Mass more than a few times a year, the people in the countryside maintain their love of the Eucharist.

In December sixteen extraordinary ministers of Communion were commissioned in the parish of Dulce Nombre and this has enabled people in remote villages to be able to received Communion at some Sunday Celebrations of the Word.

Last Thursday was the feast of Corpus Christi, the Body and Blood of Christ, though many countries celebrate it on Sunday. There were celebrations in several communities last Thursday as well as Saturday, the Vigil. But on Sunday, a big celebration was held in Dolores with the four other villages that make up a sector of the parish.

I arrived about 9 and walked out of town toward the other villages. Father Efrain and people from the parish had started the procession about 9 am in Yaruconte, halfway up a hill opposite Dolores.

Yaruconte is just below the cloud

I watched as they approached the turn off to Camalote and went down to join them. 

Procession approaching the Camalote turn off

My first sight was of more than 25 young people in white, who had been baptized last Sunday and who would receive their first Communion today at Mass in Dolores.

I was moved as I saw the Eucharist carried on a platform by four men under a  canopy carried by four others. 

Children from Camalote who would receive First Communion at today's Mass

The people were praying and singing. Some of the hymns were traditional, but just before the people from Camalote joined us, the people were singing “Encenderemos la llama” [“Let us light the flame], with these incendiary lyrics:

Let’s light the flame; let’s go,

the burning flame of liberation.

Let us transform the world courageously;

together we will make history; let’s go.

Oppressed people, go forward, liberation.

Campesino, go forward, liberation;

together we will make history; let’s go.

Human, wake; it’s the hour of light;

everything around you breathers slavery;

get rid of your chains; set yourself free from them;

return to the Father’s house with love.

We will announce Christ, our peace,

liberator of the poor with love.

We will implant your Kingdom courageously,

a Kingdom which demands justice and freedom.

 This is a hymn that the people often sing with great fervor. I don’t know the political implications of their singing, but the hymn does express the people’s desire for freedom from poverty.

Before continuing the people knelt in the dusty road to pray. And then the procession continued uphill, under a fierce sun.

Climbing the hill up to Dolores

Another hymn they sang struck me deeply, “Nadie hay tan grande como Tú.” The refrain come across fairly traditional: 

There is no one as great as You, Lord;
who will work marvels like You do?

But the three verses – a little bit of subversion:

Ni con la fuerza, ni la violencia,
es como el mundo cambiará;

Sólo el amor lo cambiará; solo el amor nos salvará.

Ni con las armas ni con la guerra,
es como el mundo cambiará;

Sólo el amor…

Ni con los pactos, ni los discursos,
es como el mundo cambiará;

Sólo el amor…

Not with force, nor with violence,
will the world be changed;

only love will change it; only love will save us.

Not with weapons nor with war
will the world be changed;

only love…

Not with pacts and talks
will the world be changed;

only love…

In the midst of the continuing violence and injustice it’s a hymn worth singing.

Praying on the road at the edge of Dolores

We stopped at the edge of Dolores and prayed again, kneeling in the dusty road, remembering in particular the migrants and the violence so many experience here in Honduras.

We arrived at the church about 10:30 and Mass began with a packed church.

The young people from Camalote receive their first communion. Padre Efraín announced that there would be baptisms on Wednesday in the village of San Antonio Dolores.

And the people left church to get in line for tamales.

The morning was a beautiful mix of the popular piety of the people, the liberating message of the church in this region, and a simple, tasteful liturgy.

Mass in Dolores

What a way to begin to  honor Christ in the Eucharist.

What more? As C. S. Lewis once wrote, 

“Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses.”

And, as Dorothy Day wrote,

We cannot love God unless we love each other, and to love we must know each other. We know Him in the breaking of the bread, and we are not alone anymore. Heaven is a banquet and life is a banquet, too, even with a crust, where there is companionship.

 What a blessing this morning was.

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More photos can be found in my Corpus Christi Dolores 2012 set on Flickr: here.