Holy Week 2022

A late update.

In our parish we begin the celebrations of Holy Week with a parish Stations of the Cross in Dulce Nombre on the Friday before Palm Sunday. We walk through the streets of Dulce Nombre, stopping at fourteen stations, followed by Mass in the main church to celebrate La Virgen Dolorosa, Our Mother of Sorrows.

This year the Stations focused on three concerns in the parish – migration, violence, and drugs and alcohol.

Migration, mostly to the US, has devastated some parts of the parish. People pay coyotes, often an exaggerated sum of money, to get them to the US. This leaves some villages with few men. In many places, this also wreaks havoc on families. 

Violence continues to devastate the parish. There have been cases this year of murders. In addition, there is the hidden violence of domestic violence and abuse (sexual and psychological). The abuse of alcohol and the use of drugs continues to plague some communities.

Alcoholism has long been a problem. More recently, selling and use of drugs has become a problem. We remember these and other concerns, recalling how Jesus shares our sufferings and our concerns. 

Palm Sunday was cold and rainy. I had a cold but still went to the Procession and Mass in Dulce Nombre. I preached, but I didn’t walk in the procession. Instead, I rode in the car with the sound system since I felt a cold coming on.

Tuesday, I went to a rural village to visit the sick and for a Celebration of the Word with Communion. 

Thursday was busy. First of all there was the Chrism Mass in Santa Rosa de Copán. It was good to be there – and also to see a few friends. 

After the Mass (and coffee with a friend, Padre Pato), I went to a Celebration of the Word with Communion and Washing of the Feet in Concepción, at 3 pm. 

At 5pm I was in La Colonia San José Obrero for another Celebration of the Word with Communion and Washing of the Feet. They had arranged twelve chairs on one side of the church for the twelve men whose feet were to be washed. I didn’t say anything beforehand, though in the Holy Week planning sessions I’d emphasized that they should include men and women, young and old. But, after I washed the feet of the twelve men, I asked if there were any women whose feet I could wash. Four women agreed.

At 7 pm, I was in the main church for the Mass of the Lord’s Supper. As our pastor, Padre German, washed the feet of twelve persons, I found myself accompanying him and drying the feet with a towel. We hadn’t arranged that, but it just seemed natural for this deacon.

Good Friday, I went to two remote villages. In the morning I went to El Higon, a small hamlet whose delegate died a few years ago. They had planned to go to a nearby village but were glad to be able to do the Stations in their small village. The people had arranged the stations on the road with small bouquets of flowers. It simple, but a moving sign of the people’s faith and devotion. 

In the afternoon, I went to Mar Azul for the Service of the Passion and the Veneration of the Cross. 

Holy Saturday is a day of rest – remembering and awaiting the resurrection. For many years, this has been a day to prepare for the Easter Vigil – by baking bread and cinnamon rolls.

The Vigil began at about 6 pm and entered about midnight. After the blessing of the fire and the Paschal Candle, we walked to the new auditorium for the Celebration of the Word, the Baptism of 29 catechumens, and the Celebration of the Eucharist. We heard all the readings and the responses to the readings were sung.

The Baptisms were held in the entrance to the auditorium. One young woman, an aspirant to the community of religious in Dulce Nombre, whispered to me, “What joy!” You could see it in the faces of many of the baptized as the paster doused them with the baptismal water. 

I got home and couldn’t sleep until about 1 am. 

I got up a little later than usual, but I arrived in time for a Celebration of the Word with Communion in a distant village.

After the Celebration I planned on going to La Entrada to have Eatser lunch with the Dubuque Franciscan sisters, bearing cinnamon rolls and fresh-baked whole wheat bread. 

The people told me that there was a back way to get to the main highway to La Entrada. I had traveled it once with the pastor, but I managed to get lost. I knew I was lost when I saw the road plunge to a ravine with fifteen-inch rocks. I turned around and started back when I came across a few people who told me how to get to the highway. They even offered to send their son as a guide. I declined the offer, but when I got to one point, I felt myself lost again. Fortunately, there were some people in a nearby stream who showed me the way out. It was an adventure. 

I arrived in time for a great visit with the three sisters and a great meal. I got home and was glad to be able to relax.

Monday morning I had two pre-marriage interviews. I did take some time off to stay at home (and wash clothes and clean the house.) Such was my Holy Week.

On the first Sunday after Easter I ended up taking four seminarians from the diocese to the seminary in Tegucigalpa – six hours away. After early morning Mass in Concepción, where the pastor had me preach, we headed out. The four are in the first year of seminary formation, which is set aside to help prepare the candidates for their studies. The public school system here is so deficient that a year is set aside to help the new seminarians learn study skills and more. Some don’t need it as much as others, but it just underlines the poor educational system here.

At the seminary, I had two chances to talk with the thirty or so first year seminarians about the permanent diaconate. There are only six deacons in the whole country. Four were ordained for the archdiocese of Tegucigalpa (and at least three of them are academics). I was ordained for the diocese of Santa Rosa de Copán. Another deacon, José Peñate, came with his family as a missionary and has been in the Tegucigalpa area for about seven years (working in a very poor area.)

While I was preparing to speak to the seminarians, I began to realize that for me the accompaniment of the poor is a critical aspect of being a deacon. I really need to make an examen of life every week, asking myself when was the last time I was in the home of a poor person. When it’s been a while, I need to reform my life and get out and visit.

I stayed in Tegucigalpa until Tuesday. I even had a chance to meet Deacon José before I left.

The trip home was longer than the trip to Tegucigalpa. I stopped in Siguatepeque to purchase a few things – and had a double dip ice cream cone from the Mennonite Store. Just before Intibucá I stopped at a roadside stand where I bought strawberries as well as a bunch of asparagus.

I had never encountered asparagus in Honduras until I passed the same stand about four years ago. I usually stop at this stand to buy strawberries and other fruits and vegetables, but finding asparagus there was a real surprise. The woman was there with her three kids – one a few months old. The oldest (about 11) helped with my order of strawberries. I ended up talking with the woman and two of her kids. She was proud that the two older boys were in school and that the first grader loved school and was learning very easily. She was proud that he was so smart. As I drove, I asked myself, “why did I take time to talk with the mother and her kids?” My first thought was because I want to give them a sense of being important and worth listening to. But then I told myself, “You do it because you love them.” 

I also stopped at a café near Yaramanguila where we had stopped on the way to Teguc. The owner had purchased some asparagus for me, and I stopped to get it. She gave me five bunches – as a gift.

I ended up sharing two bunches with US Protestant missionaries in Santa Rosa whom I know. (I tried calling the sisters in Gracias, but no one answered.) I love asparagus but couldn’t eat that much. I had received a gift and so I too had to share. I got home after 5 pm, but I didn’t collapse until I had prepared and eaten rice and asparagus.

That’s a summary of the last few weeks. 

In all this I thank God – and the people who are so good to me.

Life and death - Holy Week and Easter

This was a strange Holy Week for me. 

Perhaps this flowering rose bush is a good symbol. The bush has almost died a few times and has been devastated a few times by sompopos (cutter ants who eat all the leaves).But this year it bloomed with multiple roses on a single branch - the first time it has done this so extravagantly.

Last year I spent Holy Week as a hermit, alone at home. 

This year there are some activities, but we are trying to avoid major concentrations of people and urging people to take health safeguards. 

For many years we began Holy Week with a parish-wide stations of the Cross in Dulce Nombre on the Friday before Holy Week, traditionally celebrated in honor of Our Mother of Sorrows. Most years I wrote the Stations, usually with a specific local concern in mind. The texts were photocopied for the use of people in their villages on Good Friday. To avoid major concentrations of people, we cancelled this year’s parish Stations. 

Because we often had a number of catechumens baptized at the Easter Vigil, we usually had only one parish-wide vigil. This year there will be Vigil celebrations in many communities. The Dulce Nombre Vigil was smaller, since only people from a few communities will be invited. Fernando, a transitional deacon in our parish, led a celebration in San Agustín and I went to Vertientes for a Vigil with them and the nearby community of San José El Bosque. 

But there is more to the ministry of a deacon in Holy Week – and throughout the year. 

For me Holy Week began on the Saturday before Palm Sunday, helping guide a geologist and a civil engineer in the community of San Marcos Pavas, which suffered serious damages during the hurricanes last year.

The two men in their thirties (the guys in straw hats in the first photo) came from Santa Rosa and spent almost five hours going through the community and examining the terrain and the houses. Several community members accompanied them, showing them what had happened and giving a little history, since there have been problems of landslides and sinking soil for many years. 

 

The geologist will make a report that he’ll share with the community so that they can send it to various public authorities and other institutions to see what can be done to stabilize the situation of the community. 

It was a long and hot day, with lots of walking, and I forgot my hat. So, I found myself over-tired. 

Palm Sunday 

I went to Dulce Nombre to participate in the Palm Sunday procession and Mass. After Mass we sent about 14 parishioners as missionaries in several communities in the parish.

Monday, after getting the car washed in Dulce Nombre, I went to get some items in Santa Rosa de Copán. In the afternoon I went to Debajiados to preside at a Celebration of the end of the novenario for the young woman who died there and whom I mentioned in an earlier blog post. 

The custom here is to have nine days of prayer in the home after the death of a family member. The people often request a Mass at the end of the novenario, especially if they were not able to have a funeral Mass. Padre German couldn’t make it to the community for the Mass at the end of the novenario and so I went.

A small crowd gathered in the church. I used the daily readings, partly because it was Holy Week and partly because it was the Gospel of Mary of Bethany anointing Jesus. In think that like Mary, Maria Maricela was full of love and enthusiasm for her Lord.

the church in Debajiados 

Tuesday, I went to San Antonio Alto. 

In the morning we had the Lenten retreat It wasn’t well attended, partly because many people are still harvesting coffee in the fields. After the retreat, I went and visited the sick – eleven persons in a small village. I’ve gone there several times to visit the sick but there were never this many. 

I tried not to rush the visits, because it’s important to talk with them, to see how they are doing. I had decided to use the first verse of the Holy Thursday Gospel with them, to help them see the love that God has for them, accompanying them in their sickness.

He loved his own in the world and he loved them to the end.

Wednesday, I went to Granadillal. Again, I led the retreat in the morning and visited the sick afterwards. There were only two houses to visit, though I spent some time talking with a catechist about two persons with mental health problems. Thank God there is a psychiatrist who is willing to help these and other persons with serious problems. 

Thursday, one of the diocesan Chrism Masses was held in Santa Rosa de Copán. Many of the priests from this part of the diocese were there as well as the three transitional deacons who will be ordained to the presbyterate on May 1. 

Part of the Mass is procession of the oils at the offertory. The oils are brought to the bishop and then one of the deacons takes them to the table where they would later be blessed or consecrated. I ended up taking the Oil of the Sick, which seemed so fitting after visiting so many suffering people this week. 

In the afternoon, I presided at a Celebration of the Word with Communion in Concepción and later in the evening at Plan Grande. Washing the feet of the people is such a privilege. One of the persons whose foot I washed in Concepción is an older man who always walks around barefoot. His and others are not feet that are cushioned by good footwear. Many have rough feet as well as bunions caused by inadequate shoes. I caressed their feet with gentleness. I recalled this icon which I used on the prayer card for my ordination.

Good Friday, it was raining and so I didn’t go out to the Stations here in Plan Grande in the morning. I also felt a need for some quiet reflection. 

I was planning to go to Plan de Naranjo in the afternoon for the Celebration of the Office of the Passion. A half hour before I planned to leave, I got a phone call from someone there, advising me not to come since the roads were slippery with all the rain. I was glad that they called me because I was a bit concerned, remembering how slippery it was the last time I went there.

I ended up at the celebration in Dulce Nombre. This was the first time as a deacon that I served at a parish Good Friday liturgy. Usually, I’ve gone to remote villages that don’t have a Communion minister. I was moved, especially seeing the newly restored crucifix that belonged to Padre Juan Gennaro, the Italian missionary who built the church.

Holy Saturday, I spent at home, cleaning and baking. I made bread and cinnamon rolls to share with the Franciscan sisters at lunch on Easter in La Entrada. I also made enough cinnamon rolls to share some with the pastor who asked me for some.

EASTER VIGIL 

Saturday evening I presided at the Easter Vigil in Vertientes, which included participation from other nearby communities. We decided to celebrate in the unfinished church and so they put in some provisional lighting. The large church was filled!

We began in darkness outside the church with a great Easter Fire. Then we entered and proceeded with the Vigil. We didn’t use all the Old Testament readings but this let us have a careful reading of the creation and exodus passages. (I also could get home before 9:30 pm).

The planners did an excellent job with the liturgy and it was a time of rebirth.

Easter Sunday for me began with a Mass in Dulce Nombre. We welcomed back the missionaries who had spent the week in several communities. 

I ended up preaching. The liturgy was recorded by a local channel and I checked out my homily – with my grammatical errors at the end. The surprise – it was almost exactly 7 minutes.

After the Mass, I hurried to La Entrada for lunch with the Dubuque Franciscan Sisters and an associate who lives across from their house in Gracias. It was good to be with them, to share good food (including vegetarian quiche and pecan pie), and to catch up on life. I was quite tired and so I left earlier than the others. 

Easter Monday 

I intended to spend Monday as a day of rest. I got up late, spent a lot of time praying, and was about to begin doing some chores around the house as well as catch up on reading. Then I got a call. 

Cristina from Las Pavas couldn’t get through to the pastor and so tried me. She wanted to know if there were provisions to help a family that had suffered the death of a family member and would need some food for the all-night vigil as well as for the novenario. 

Providing food is an important part of the experience of sitting with those who have died and with their families. I arranged to get the food and proceeded there, only to find people outside the church, with several police cars. 

I soon learned that Carlos Arturo, 36 years old and suffering from epilepsy, had been killed and his body still lay in the coffee field across from the church. 

I found the mother and a brother of the murder victim and prayed with them. Later I approached the field and saw the body covered by a plastic tablecloth. I prayed and blessed the body. I spent a few hours there, speaking with people. 

More police came in about an hour to examine the site where the body was found as well as make an initial examination of the body. 

The carried the body up the hill and placed it on the ground outside the church. People gathered around.

It was not easy to watch, as they examined the four machete wounds. I can’t imagine how hard it was for the family. 

Then they took the body to the morgue in Santa Rosa de Copán and told the family they could come and get the body the next day. 

I stayed for a while and agreed to come the following morning to take some folks to bring the body back to Las Pavas. 

EASTER TUESDAY 

Tuesday was a long day – an hour from my house to get to Las Pavas and then two hours to the morgue in Santa Rosa. We were about three hours waiting at the morgue, though I went with a school teacher from Las Pavas to get lunch for those who came. Before we got lunch, she invited me to have a cup of coffee in a coffee with another woman from Las Pavas.

We got back to Las Pavas late in the afternoon. 

They had planned to wake the body – an all-night vigil, in the family home. The road was slippery from the rain and so they carried the body down the hill. 

I had visited the parents last year before the pandemic, bringing them communion, but I hardly recognized the father who had had a stroke and couldn’t speak. But when he saw me, he came up to me and I put my arm around him. We stood there for quite some time. I did not know how to comfort him – a few words, but most of all he rested his head on my shoulder.

Before I left, we had a short prayer around the casket, commending Carlos Arturo to God. The pastor is away, and I couldn’t return for the burial Wednesday morning since I had a catechists meeting. With a sad heart, I left. I’m hoping that the pastor can get to Las Pavas for a Mass at the end of the novenario. 

Wednesday I rested after the catechists meeting here in Plan Grande. Two of the catechists arrived early and so I showed them my garden, where they insisted on taking a few photos.

Today, Thursday, I intended to go to Santa Rosa for some supplies but I got a call from the parish secretary asking if I could preside at a funeral service at 1 pm this afternoon. Tomorrow, I have two couples who will be coming to the parish for the final pre-marriage interview. Life goes on and there are new beginnings, even in the face of death. And there are the surprises of flowering roses from bushes that seemed dead.

Lent, where did it go?

Holy Week – Semana Santa – is upon us. 

For some here in Honduras this is a week of vacations. In past years, many people went to the beaches or rivers to escape the heat. Others took part in the great processions and religious services in their cities and towns. This year it will be different, though we will be having limited celebrations. But life goes on – with its joys and sorrows.

A lot is happening in Honduras and in the world and I’m trying to make sense of it. For me, this means paying attention to the people I encounter. This doesn’t always offer concrete “solutions,” but it may help me and others understand what is going on and begin to work together with the people for ways to envision and create societies that are more just. 

And so, I’m writing this to help me articulate what I’m seeing and to help others see the human side of what is happening. 

A VILLAGE IN TRANSITION AFTER THE HURRICANES

Last Sunday I went to a distant village to preside at a Celebration of the Word with Communion and meet with a committee which is leading to effort to help them recuperate from the effects of last year’s hurricanes.

The village was cut off from other places for several days during and after both hurricanes. The road into the community was seriously affected with several landslides that took out parts of the road. It was still slippery last Sunday.

After the Celebration I spoke with the committee. They have asked for a study of the situation and, with the help of a friend, a geologist will be coming this coming Saturday. I wanted to help them prepare for the visit and think of what questions they had for him.

I was rather impressed with their thoughtfulness as well as their intent to be helping all in the community, regardless of religion or political allegiance.

I have tried to be very careful, avoiding taking over but helping them develop their skills, praising their initiative. I look forward to Saturday.

Before I left several of the women on the committee brought me to the sacristy where there were bags of cement, cyclone fencing, and a few bags of fertilizer. They told me that this had been brought to the community the week before the March 14 primary elections by the supporters of one of the candidates. One supporter had the keys of the church and put the “bribes” there. The pastor wants the material out as soon as possible.

For me, this reveals some of what is wrong in the Honduran political scene.

Some candidates use gifts like cement and fertilizer, to try to influence people to vote for them. For me, this comes very close to bribery. They also try to manipulate the church and other institutions. 

These actions also exacerbate the divisions and even violence that permeate the political process here – even at the level of municipal elections. Families are divided over candidates, threats have been made against candidates, and more. A concept of politics as working together for the common good is largely unknown or, if it is acknowledged, policies outweigh their pious words.

POLITICS

Honduras had primary elections on Sunday March 14. The three major political parties were to choose their candidates for national and local offices – president, members of congress, and mayors. The candidates chosen will compete in the national elections in November. As of Tuesday, this week the national electoral commission had not released the results. 

The lines were long here in Plan Grande and there was even a car supporting a major opposition party, LIBRE, even though one of the candidates for the National Party is from our village.

Before the elections there was the usual electioneering – signs on buildings and on cars, caravans of cars going through the streets in towns and even venturing into the countryside with their supporters – waving flags, shouting slogans. There were even cases of candidates handing out provisions, bags of cement or fertilizer.

The ruling political party, the National Party, had two major candidates – one of whom is rumored to be involved in corruption. Both candidates are closely tied to the current president. (The president’s brother has been convicted of drug trafficking in the US and the president has been mentioned in a press release on the conviction of another drug trafficker in the US.) In the Liberal Party, the family of one candidate has been implicated in drug trafficking. The opposition party, Libre, will probably choose the wife of the president who was thrown out in a coup in 2009.

During the campaigns, at least in our municipality, the competition between two candidates proved extremely divisive. Families and communities are divided over the candidates. There was one incident that I’ve heard of in which a vehicle of partisans of one candidate ran into the vehicles of the other. There are also rumors of threats against one candidate.

Politics, which has been filled with corruption for many years and which has been largely a contest between two parties until 2009, has been even more polarizing. 

Is there a way out? I don’t know.

At the national level I have my doubts, largely because of the influence of the two major political parties and their access to money for campaigns as well as their reliance on a system that awards members of the party.

At the local level, there may be some opportunities. I know two young men (in different parties) who were candidates for mayor in their respective municipalities.

But I believe that the real efforts need to be made to help people at the local level organize, assume responsibilities for their lives, and go forward to pursue the good of their communities, without being involved with political parties. In the meantime, many people feel powerless and this, I believe, often leads some to look for a way out, by going to the US.

COFFEE

The coffee harvest is almost completely finished in our area. There seems to have been a good harvest, except for those areas affected by landslides and for those coffee farms that have not been severely affected by roya, the disease that devastated almost all of Honduras about five years ago. In addition, many of the coffee bushes are beginning to flower.

While I’ve lived here in the countryside, I’ve noticed an influx of Guatemalan workers for the coffee harvest, with whole families coming here to work.

Because of COVID-19 and the difficulty to cross the borders, there are not many Guatemalans, at least in our area. But there have been a good number of people coming from Intibucá as well as from around Copán Ruinas. These are most often Lenca or Maya Chorti.

This came home to me last Sunday when I was driving to a community. It was about 8:30 am when I noticed three young guys walking up a hill and offered them a ride. They were grateful and I left them off near the international highway between La Entrada and Copán Ruinas.

I asked them where they had come from and when they had left to start walking. They had started in San Agustín about 5:00 am. They had been working in the coffee harvest and were going back to their villages. In order to get some work they had left home and lived for months away from home.

These guys at least were close to home; many of the people I met in Plan Grande had come from Intibucá – many hours away from here.

This is part of the desperation and the lack of local work that feeds the desire to look for a way out, often seeking to go to the US.

COVID 19

COVID 19 is still present and is most forceful in the large cities and on the north coast. There have been a few cases in parts of our parish with a few deaths, but – thanks be to God – the situation seems manageable in our area, though the major hospitals are experiencing difficulties, due to a broken public health system that really has not responded to people health needs for ages.

I have three major concerns. 

First of all, the public health system needs major overhaul which must include decent wages that are paid on time, sufficient medicine for the needs of the poor populations, and preventive measures.

Secondly, there is a great laity in terms of issues of medical security measures in the face of the pandemic. Pickups and cattle trucks were packed solid with people during the coffee harvest, with few people wearing masks. The political car caravans also had pickups filled with people, often without masks. In the church we try to have the people wear masks and use gel, but it is extremely difficult for many reasons. Some don’t see the need for these measures – some think that it won’t affect them since there haven’t been cases nearby; a few have an almost magical notion of religion, saving God will protect them; others just don’t have the money to buy gel and masks. A teacher in a rural community told me that the government has not provided masks or gel for the children in here school.

Thirdly, we have no idea when vaccines will arrive for the general population. Some have arrived and medical personnel have been vaccinated, which I perfectly justified. There are reports from the government that several million doses will be coming – but they have been saying this since early February. It does appear, though, that Russia will be donating several million doses of the Sputnik vaccine. But the question is who will get these vaccines. Will they be doled out as political favors or as ways to “buy” votes before the November national elections?

All this leads to great uncertainty.

MIGRATION

It is hard for me to get a good handle on the numbers of people who have migrated from our area of Honduras.

A few weeks ago I went to a community for a Sunday Celebration of the Word with Communion. I asked about a catechist from there whom I had seen a few weeks before but he wasn’t answering my phone calls. He left for the US, I was told. But then a few days ago, he showed up at the parish council meeting. He had gone but was deported and flown back to Honduras. He was a very committed and capable person and so I was surprised that he had left.

A little before that I heard from someone on Facebook who was from the area but had been living in another part of the country. He was a real leader in his parish and with youth in his diocese. But he had left and found a job in the US.

Two Sundays ago I came across someone who had left from here about 18 months ago with his son. He had decided to return home.

Twice, in the past three weeks the pastor has asked me to talk with couples who wanted their child baptized before the husband left for the US with the child.

I knew the first couple and spoke with them. I began by saying that I was opposed to parents going with their children, mostly because of the insecurity and danger. The husband told me that the coyote (as they call the one arranging the transit, for a price) had told them that at the border they were letting in parents with children. I tried to tell him that this was probably not true and was a misunderstanding of what was really happening. But he still was planning to go. 

I went ahead with the process of baptismal preparation and the baptism. But shortly after he wrote me to tell me that the trip was put off by the coyote, who said the situation had changed at the border.

I don’t trust coyotes. I don’t know if this coyote had misunderstood what was happening at the border or was manipulating the information to obtain clients. 

I talked with another couple and we were going to meet again but they called me to say that the husband and child weren’t going together and so they could wait for baptism afterwards.

These are not isolated cases. I keep hearing of people leaving, trying to go to the US. I have also heard of a friend who is going to Spain - with papers.

What is happening?

My guess is that people are desperate and are grasping at straws, trying to find a way out of the abyss they perceive around them here in Honduras. I can only try to encourage people to stay, try to find ways to help them stay, and pray.

At least two things really need to change.

First of all, Honduras needs and deserves a government that is honest, transparent, just, and concerned about the good of all its people, especially the poor. 

Secondly, US immigration policy needs to change so that it is more open to the needs of the people here who can offer a lot to the US. How much of the meat packing and the agriculture work is being done by migrant labor? At least, the US could look at programs that offer short-term work for people from poor nations. 

I know of a fair number of people who have taken advantage of a Canadian program (all too limited) to spend several months in agricultural work – mostly in Québec. 

I know the US has or had recently a very limited form of this, but my guess is that it hardly responds to the needs of US agriculture and the number of people here who would profit from it. 

I will leave policy planning to others who have more knowledge and experience in this. I only demand that it be a policy that respects the rights of the poor and is otherwise consistent with Catholic social teaching. For more on Catholic social thought on the issue confer the statement of the Catholic Bishops of Mexico and the United States, Strangers No Longer: Together on the Journey of Hope: A pastoral letter concerning migration. 

In the meantime, we work to help the people live in dignity and find ways to live their faith. It’s the least we can do. 

THE PARISH

The murals of Saints Francis and Clare in the Blessed Sacrament chapel have been finished. They are astounding.

The artist has been working on the other side chapel, which will feature murals of Saints Isidore and María, patrons of agriculture workers, and Saint Nunzio Sulprizio, a young blacksmith who died of cancer. He is gone for two weeks but will return after Easter and probably finish before the end of April.

Lent has been subdued. 

We won’t have our parish-wide Stations of the Cross tomorrow, but people in many of the villages have had small groups praying the stations on Fridays.

The pastor has gone out and celebrated Mass and heard confessions in most of the villages. Today he’ll be in a nearby community and so I’ll be able to go to Mass to celebrate the feast of the Annunciation.

Yesterday was the commemoration of the martyrdom of Saint Óscar Romero, archbishop of San Salvador. Padre German celebrated a special Mass in the main church at 6:00 pm. I went, assisted at the altar, and preached. It was a great honor to be able to speak of San Romero.

Holy Week will be different this year. 

We are encouraging small celebrations in the communities and had about 55 people in a training session. 

We often have had Lenten retreats in the sectors of the parish, often led by the Oblate sisters who are in Dulce Nombre; but this year the pastor decided to have the retreats in each village, led by people who came to a training session last week.

In addition, the parish is sending out about a few people in mission to the communities. 

My week will be busy. 

Palm Sunday I’ll be in the main parish Mass in Dulce Nombre and will help send out the missionaries who will spend several days visiting people in various villages.

Tuesday and Wednesday I will be going to two villages to visit the sick and also to facilitate a Lenten retreat.

Thursday we will have the Chrism Mass in Santa Rosa de Copán for this part of the diocese. In the afternoon, I’ll be presiding at a Celebration of the Word with Communion in Concepción, with Washing of the Feet.

Friday, if all goes well, I’ll be going to a distant village for the Celebration of the Passion with Communion. 

Saturday, for the Easter Vigil, we are obviously not having one big celebration. The pastor will be in Dulce Nombre; Fernando, the transitional deacon, will be in San Agustín. I’ll be in Vertientes, and we will be joined by people from nearby San José El Bosque. We will have it in the new church that they are building in Vertientes, which is quite large. I am looking forward to this.

Sunday, I’ll be at the morning Mass in Dulce Nombre where we’ll welcome back some of the missionaries who spent Holy Week in several villages. After that, if all goes well, I will have Easter lunch with some of the Dubuque Franciscan sisters.

As you can note, we are not as restricted in our celebrations as in some parts of the world (and even some parts of Honduras), but I will be taking biosecurity measures very seriously.

LAST FRIDAY - Sorrow and Hope

Last Saturday we got word after the Parish Council meeting that a young woman, about 15 with special needs and epilepsy, from Debajiados, had died. The young woman was always at Masses and Celebrations with her mother. She was almost always full of energy and joy. 

Padre German decided to have the funeral Mass in Delicias Concepción where here body was to be buried. I went to Debajiados to see if I could help bring people to the Mass. Four cars were filled with people.

Marcelita's casket in the back of a pickup

Padre German preached but I read the Gospel - Matthew 11: 25 - 30. I was close to tears as I read: "I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the wise and learned and revealed them to the simple people." Marcelita was one of these.

I also led the prayers of commendation around the casket at the end of Mass. I again found myself close to tears. 

Marcelita was a moment of grace for many, in her weakness and infirmities. Celebrating her funeral Mass, was, as father mentioned in his homily, a moment of experiencing Easter. 

TODAY - Hope

I am off in about an hour to the nearby village of El Zapote Santa Rosa for Mass. The pastor will have arrived there earlier for confessions. 

I don’t know if he’ll want me to preach but I find today’s feast – the Annunciation – is a feast of hope.

In the midst of darkness, there is light. In the midst of darkness, a young woman learns that she is going to give birth – to the Son of God. God is with us, sharing our joys and sorrows, our hopes and disappointments. And she says yes. And, though this is the work of God, the responsorial psalm reminds us that God invites us to say yes: “Here I am, Lord, I come to do your will.” 

 In Spanish, we have a beautiful way to speak of childbirth: “ella da a luz”; she brings to light. We need that light – and we need people willing to risk themselves, as Mary did, to bring that light to the world.

HOLY WEEK 2019

Holy Week is always busy. This one was no different. But with a twist.

The Friday before Palm Sunday we began with the parish stations of the cross, which I wrote with an emphasis on youth, since the Honduras Bishops have selected as this year’s motto, “Together with the youth, we announce the Gospel of life.”

Hundreds showed up for the stations and we walked through Dulce Nombre, ending with Mass in the church. We began about 9:30 and ended about 2 pm. It would have been a little shorter but between the end of the Stations and the Mass, Padre German heard confessions.

The text is available in Spanish; I hope to translate it sometime in May.

Saturday, I went to Santa Rosa to pick up a priest from the national seminary who was going to be with the parish for a week, helping in San Agustín and the surrounding communities. Father Jacob Lugo was in for a busy week.

He stayed with me Saturday night and then I took him to Dolores for the Palm Sunday procession and Mass. After Mass, we ate at Dulce Nombre and he had a chance to talk with our pastor, Padre German. Then I took him for the procession and Mass in San Agustín. I stayed until the end of Mass and a meeting with the council there. He had a busy week there.

Father Jacob in Dolores

The procession in Dolores

Father Jacob in San Agustín 

The procession in San Agustín

Monday afternoon, I met with the catechists in the town of Dulce Nombre. Many of them work during the week and haven’t been able to attend our training sessions. It went well.

Tuesday we had a retreat for the youth of the parish and had over 60 young people.

Wednesday, in the afternoon, Padre, several communion ministers, and I went to Delicias, Concepción, for the blessing of their new tabernacle. It was proceeded by a procession and stops at three altars on the road between Cerro Negro and the Delicias Church.

Holy Thursday, I went with some folks from Plan Grande for the Chrism Mass in Santa Rosa. I served as deacon for the Mass.

After lunch, I headed for Concepción, where we had Mass. I ended up preaching.  Then, I went to Dolores, where I led the Celebration of the Word with Communion and washed the feet. This picture is courtesy of Profe Arnaldo Chávez.

Friday morning, I went to accompany the Stations of the Cross in Mar Azul. In the afternoon I led the liturgy of the Passion with the veneration of the Cross and Communion in Debajiados. Thinking about the veneration of the Cross, I decided to bring the Mission Cross I had been given at St. Thomas Aquinas when I was sent forth in 2007. It had been the cross of the founder of the St. Thomas Aquinas parish and it has been hanging in my home since I got here. It was so fitting to bring it and I will probably bring it on Good Friday every year.

Holy Saturday morning was spent practicing for the singing of the Exultet, the Easter Praise, sung at the Vigil, and baking -  two loaves of bread and a pan and a half of cinnamon rolls. The house smelled great.

The Vigil was quite the celebration We were supposed to start on a hill in town with the Easter Fire about 5:30. We started about 45 minutes late. 

We got to the church and it was filled to overflowing.

I sang the Exultet and flubbed it – partly because the light was no poor that I had major trouble reading the text and the music. But God was praised.

Youth from San Juan Concepción dramatized two of the readings.

But the highlight was the rite of baptism of the catechumens which we did just outside the main door of the church at the bottom of the steps. About 36, mostly young people, were baptized. It was amazing. Father German is not a minimalist in terms of baptismal water!

Mass continued with the first communion of the newly baptized and the first communion of some young people under 14 who had been baptized in their village of El Higon before Lent.

I didn‘t get home until about midnight.

Sunday morning I sent to La Colonia San José Obrero near El Limón Dulce Nombre. As part of the celebration I gave the community an image of Saint Joseph the Worker which I had found when I was in the US in March so that they would have an image for their novena before the May 1 feast of St. Joseph the Worker.

After the Celebration I asked if there was any sick person who might want to receive communion. A middle-aged woman suffering from cancer lived nearby. Padre German had come a short time ago and had married the couple (who had been living together for thirty years and had about eight children. When I arrived at the house I was taken to her bedside. A niece and a grandchild were sitting there talking with her. Soon a large number of her children, her spouse, a sister, and a few grandkids and other relatives gathered around the bed. I spoke with her for a while. She was very alert and we talked; at one point a joke brought a smile on her face.

We then had a short celebration using that part of the Easter Gospel which talked about the women going to the tomb. We prayed for her, for her family, and for all those who took care of her. Then I gave her communion. I then invited those present who wanted to receive to come forward. Her husband and about four others came. We ended the little celebration with a blessing for her and those present.

This was for me a real Easter moment, a celebration of life in the face of celebration, the gathering of a community around a seriously ill member of a family, a sharing of the Eucharist.

I left and then headed for Gracias, where I arrived just as the Dubuque Franciscan Sisters there were finishing their meal. They had saved enough for me to be delightfully filled – even with a new dessert which Sister Nancy had made – a variation on the Samoa Girl Scout cookies.

I stayed the night with the sisters and had time to eat a good dinner (which included egg salad sandwiches with my bread). It was great to be with these great women. Three are from the US and they have two novices living with then in the house in Gracias. Two members of their community were away, one in the US and the other, a Honduras sister, at a four-month special program at a Jesuit spirituality center in Guatemala.

The meal and the time with the sisters was a delight - a perfect way to celebrate the risen Christ - with a Franciscan community in the midst of the poor.

Monday, I waited for Father Jacob in Gracias to give him a ride to the seminary in Tegucigalpa, since I need to get some materials from the national catechetical office.  It was great to have a companion on the journey and we had some great conversations.

I stayed overnight at the seminary and drove back home to Plan Grande.

I made a few stops. I didn’t eat much just ice cream and lemon pie at two different places in Siguatepeque. But I bought a few things.

In Sigua (the shortened form of Siguatepue) I bought two plants as well as bread, cookies, ice cream, cheese, and yogurt at the Mennonite store there.

I stopped at a vegetable stand on the side of the road about five kilometers before Esperanza. I almost always stop there for strawberries. But today the woman also had peaches, grape tomatoes, potatoes, and – I could not believe my eyes – ASPARAGUS! It was the first harvest day and she only had one pound, harvested today. I bought it, even though it was about four dollars. I love asparagus and had never seen it here. She told me she would probably have some each day for about two months, but it’s too far away for me to go and buy it.

My treasure trove

I continued on home and stopped for coffee outside Yaramanguila and found a large cup of coffee. (I did have a cup – but not that large one.) The store had a tomato jelly and a guayaba marmalade which I bought. 

I got home and prepared dinner – rice, asparagus, and eggs.

Another little bit of heaven.