Potholes, elections, rains, and more

Yesterday I drove back from Quimistan to my home in Plan Grande, Concepción, Copán, on CA-4, the international highway that connects to San Pedro Sula and then, on another road, to the Honduran Caribbean port of Puerto Cortes. The road is a major route for goods from the port and San Pedro Sula to the Salvadoran and Guatemalan borders in the southwest.

The road is, to a great extent, a mess. There are a few good portions, notably from La Entrada to Santa Rosa de Copán. But the road south of Santa Rosa is a disaster, partly because of a major geological fault

The road to San Pedro Sula from Sula to La Flecha is another disaster. I have often traveled this road and I think it’s worse now than when it was really bad ten years ago. They did some repairs some years ago, but it’s really been neglected in the last two or more years.

I think the state of this road is a good metaphor for Honduras at this moment.

Honduras has potential – great coffee, hard-working and welcoming people, natural resources, archeological sites, beautiful mountains, and more. But how can the country go forward with massive insecurity with roads that are treacherous? How can Honduras go forward when many politicians have deep ties with organized crime and drug trafficking? 

We are in the last two weeks before the national elections, which are held every four years. The country will elect the president, the congress, and mayors. There are three major parties and there are serious questions about the presidential candidates of two parties and their connection with money-laundering, corruption, and drug-trafficking. There are serious questions about the fairness of the coming elections – not only because of anomalies in the election process voted on by Congress (which is controlled by one of the parties).

There have also been a number of cases of intimidation of candidates, and even worse. Some candidates have been killed and there have been cases of violence at some campaign rallies, including attacks in nearby San Jerónimo, Copán, where one person died and three were seriously injured. There have also been at least two candidates killed in other parts of our diocese. 

According to a new report, “Honduras' National Autonomous University Observatory of Violence reported that at least 64 people have been victims of political violence between December last year and October this year.”

In the municipality where I live there has not been any violence, but campaign banners have been slashed. Tensions are high.

On a national level, there are also some people and groups calling some opposition candidates and parties communist, attempting to spread fear and more in the population. 

Many doubt the elections on Sunday, November 28, will be fair and transparent, remembering certain irregularities in the last election.

November 28 is the first Sunday of Advent.

We’ll be having Masses and Celebrations of the Word throughout the parish, as usual. But there will be one change. Usually we have the rite of the entry of candidates for baptism (over 14 years old) into the catechumenate on the first Sunday of Advent. This year we’re transferring it to December 5.

To close this blog post on the same note as I started it, I have to write about the dirt roads in our parish. 

The persistent rains, accompanied by cooler temperatures and little sun, have left some roads extremely muddy and slippery. I am glad I have four wheel drive, or I would have gotten stuck a few times.

The causes for these problems are many, including, of course, failure of the government to maintain the roads. 

At this time of the year we often have several days with rain, throughout the day and night; with little sun and temperatures in the low sixties the roads don’t have much chance of drying out.

Since many of the roads are clay, they can become rather slippery. If the authorities have put down gravel, it is considerably less slippery. But there are some road with little or no gravel, some because it has been washed away, some because the gravel was spread out too thinly or was pushed to the side when a tractor was brought in to level the road or fill potholes or trenches. It can get to be quite a mess. In addition, the soil is not stable in some places and there has been at least one landslide in the parish that blocked a road between two villages in the mountains.

But Honduras is going to open a new international airport in the coming weeks at Palmerola (which was a US base for many years, particularly in the 1980s). And it has a military budget of 392 million US dollars (with no wars or threats of war on its borders.)

It is also a recipient of millions of dollars of aid from the US, much of which is supposedly to fight drug-trafficking and decrease the migration to the US. But drug trafficking continues, since it has deep roots in politicians and in other elites. 

And migration continues, since many people see little hope for the future and there is a real lack of security for many people in the large cities, as well as for opposition politicians and human rights advocates. 

It doesn’t look good.

But I’ll try to write later this week on some events that might give a bit of hope.

Out of the depths - crying with migrants

I just returned from the baptism of a six year old who will soon be leaving with his father for the US. 

This is the second baptism I have celebrated in the past two weeks of a child who would be going with his father on the long trek to the US.

But I can hardly call them celebrations in the normal sense. In some way, they can only be celebrations of the hope that God gives to people amidst the anguish, that drives people to flee their homes with a child.

In the last two weeks I’ve also been with family members who had someone who died in the US. One was at a Mass for a teenager who went with his father but who drowned. The other man was older but was killed in the US. There must be more, but these were in our parish and I spoke with family members. 

In the last week I’ve also come across two families whose family members have been kidnapped and held for ransom in Mexico. The kidnappers of one man and his child asked first for several thousand US dollars but lowered the amount significantly. But how can a poor family here afford even a thousand dollars? The family is distraught; I prayed with them – and cried with them. 

 

The numbers of migrants from our parish is staggering. The other day I was giving a ride with someone who was talking on the phone with family members or friends who had left and were waiting to cross the US border. 

I was in conversation with someone else who was talking about a number of persons planning to leave, as well as with a teenager who hopes to leave but wants to be baptized beforehand. 

I recently heard that a large group of young people from a village have left for the US. I don’t know who they are but I do know a good number of young people from that village.

I don’t know what is happening that is driving so many to leave. We don’t experience the violence and the presence of gangs, as do many in the cities and the coast. But there is a lot of poverty and a lack of opportunities for young people, even those few who have finished high school. 

In the midst of this, I feel powerless – as must many of the people around me, especially those who flee. 

And so, in the midst of this, I pray the first words of Psalm 130, as I did with a family today: 

Out of the depths I cry to you, 

O Lord, Lord, hear my voice.

Stations of the Cross, El Rosario Church, San Salvador

A Lament for Honduras

A LITANY OF LAMENT

- COVID-19 continues to ravage the country, and there are rumors of more restrictions because of the effects on certain areas and the overcrowding of hospitals. 

- With corruption and lack of transparency, most of the population is not vaccinated. According to one report: "While more than one million Hondurans have received one vaccine shot so far, only 79,737 have received both shots, 0.8% of the population." (The population of Honduras is about 9.9 million.) 

- A weak and overburdened medical system.

- An economy that leaves the poor with unjust wages and unjust prices for their farm goods.

- Emigration seems to be increasing astronomically, even in the rural areas where I live.

- Continuing violence, including domestic abuse and killing for vengeance.

- Families torn apart by migration, as well as by domestic violence and alcohol and drug abuse. 

- A debilitated educational system, both at the local area and in terms of national policy. 

- The degradation of the environment, including destruction of forests and pollution, including pollution by mining interests.

- A government and others pushing for ZEDES, business zones out of the control of the government, which would enact their own laws, etc. 

- The Honduran Congress approving more hydroelectric dams (which raises the concern about environmental issues and respect for lands of native peoples and others.) 

- Government corruption and ties to drug-trafficking leave the country without adequate responses to the needs of the population. 

- With elections in November, there are questions about the fairness, justice, and transparency of the election processes. 

- A non-functioning judicial system that leave people fearing to testify against violent crimes. 

The list can go on and on and on. But those who are affected have faces and names. 

This morning, after seeing so many Facebook posts on the Pope’s stand on the use of the Extraordinary Form of the Mass, I thought of the real concerns, and the real issues, that people confront every day in the parish where I serve. 

They face these issues with the few resources they have and with the rich resources of their faith – even though many have access to Mass only once every few weeks.

They don't worry about the language of the Mass, but whether there will be Mass, whether the priest can arrive for the confessions of the sick and dying, whether a child can be baptized before heading out to the US with her father, whether there will be a priest to say a Mass for the burial of a loved one, and many other cares.

And so I began writing this litany of the needs of the poor, here in Honduras, and the threats they experience to life and well-being. It is a litany that could go on for hundreds more pages.

Lord, have mercy on us.

Come over to Honduras and help us.

Fifteen years ago, after a moving experience volunteering in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina, I visited Sister Nancy Meyerhofer in Honduras as part of a discernment process. 

After working in New Orleans, I felt that God was calling me to do something different, moving from my work in campus ministry and social ministry at St. Thomas Aquinas Church in Ames. 

Nancy and I were going to meet the bishop to talk about possibilities. Before that, I spent a few days with Nancy, observing her work and going with her to some of the communities where she served.

Saturday, as is my daily custom, I read the lectionary readings. The first reading, which this year is read today, is from the Acts of the Apostles 16: 1-10. This verse stood out for me: A Macedonian stood before him and implored him with these words, 

“Come over to Macedonia and help us.”

Paul had been planning to go to Bithynia but “the Spirit of Jesus did not allow them.” 

At this time, I was also considering a paid position in El Salvador. 

I had my first Latin American pastoral experiences in El Salvador and the people still have an important place in my heart. It is a holy land, graced with the blood of many martyrs. 

But, reading this passage from the experience of St. Paul, I began to wonder if my call was to Honduras. 

When I had crossed the border from El Salvador into Honduras, I noted a difference – most notably the infrastructure. The roads were terrible. (They still are in many places, though there have been improvements in the last fifteen years.) 

The next week I went with Nancy and met with the bishop. He was willing to accept my offer of help but warned me that they have no money.

I returned to the US with a greater sense that my call was probably to Honduras. There was greater poverty in Honduras than in El Salvador and there was less international solidarity with the people of Honduras.

In June 2007, I arrived and began serving here. I do not regret my decision. It’s where God has opened many paths for me to serve God’s people. And, God willing, it’s where I will be able to serve God and the people of God until I die.

 

Some thoughts on migration

Last Tuesday I listened to a webinar organized by some Catholic groups working here in Honduras. Afterwards, I reflected on migration from here, mostly to the US. Here are a few of my thoughts on this extremely complicated issue, largely in terms of why people are migrating. I may later suggest ways to alleviate the situation and promote more humane refugee policies, but that is for another day. 

But first it is important to realize that this is not an issue – these are people: José, María, Consuela, Alejandro, Brenda, Adonay, Jesús, Fernando, Walter, Hernan, and many more. 

We need to remember the humans involved.

Migration is a sign of something that is wrong. 

Why would a parent leave their family in search of a job in a foreign land where they speak a different language? Why would a parent leave with a child, or with the entire family, and undertake a perilous journey with no assurance of employment? Why would a person go into a multi-thousand dollar debt with no assurance of a job in another land?

I am sure that there are young men who go because it seems like a great adventure, when he’s been living a boring life. But there are young people who go because they see no future here in Honduras, even with an education. As one young man told me many years ago during a long discussion, “What does Honduras offer.” 

Each person, each family has a story. We need to listen.

VIOLENCE

Some from the large cities leave because of the threats of gangs in their neighborhoods; they may fear that their children might be recruited into the gangs; others may have received threats because they cannot pay the “war tax” that some gangs impose on businesses in their “territory.”

In other parts of the country, people experience the presence of drug traffickers and the attendant violence.

Throughout the country many more have experienced violence – from gangs or from common criminals. 

There are also the conflicts over land and over lovers. These are exacerbated by the presence of arms and rampant problems of alcohol abuse. There are the many women fleeing domestic violence; I recently was a headline in a newspaper that this year a woman has been killed an average of every 17 hours.

The violence occurs in a political situation where impunity reigns.

The police, despite massive investment by foreign governments (especially the US), together with the judicial system don’t have much success in their investigations and in prosecutions. Many crimes go uninvestigated. Thus, many people have little trust in the police and justice system.

Since there seems to be little justice in the face of crimes, there is the temptation to taking the law into one’s own hands. Vengeance killings are not uncommon. 

I would add that in this climate there is not much experience in working through conflicts in nonviolent creative ways.

In some workshops I’ve led, I notice that the usual responses to conflict are avoidance and flight from the situation. Yes, there is some fight, but it is not always focused.

In the face of this, even those who have not experienced violence want to leave. As a young man I know wrote me after I told him of a brutal death in a village near where he grew up, “That’s a part of why I left – to escape that type of violence.”

A CORRUPT POLITICAL SITUATION

Corruption runs rampant in Honduras. Not only have a number of Hondurans been convicted and jailed in the US for drug trafficking (including the brother of the current president) or for money laundering (including one presidential candidate), but there are stories of involvement of political, military, and police connections with drugs. And the US continues to provide millions to the government, which has led to the militarization of the country and even of police functions.

The US government has had major influence in Honduras for many decades, but hardly on the side of the poor. In the 1980s it staffed an air-force base in central Honduras during a rather bloody time in Honduras history (with death squads and military repression); the base also supported US operations in support of the repressive Salvadoran government and the Contras, rebels fighting against the Nicaraguan government. US government and military actions in the region are not pretty.

I’ll only mention the continuing influence of multi-national corporations in the country, from the US banana companies of the nineteenth centuries to the Canadian and other mining operations, as well as the maquilas from Korea, the US, and elsewhere.

Honduras is rich in resources and in people. But it has been impoverished – by internal corruption and international exploitation.

IMPOVERISHMENT

Honduras is the second poorest country in Latin America – after Haiti. Over 60% live in poverty and over 30% in extreme poverty.

Unemployment is a major problem as well as inadequate wages.

In some areas there is seasonal employment. In my region people pick coffee between November and early March. They usually get between 25 and 35 lempiras per five gallon container of picked coffee berries. Some can pick ten, twelve, or even more a day, but most average between six and eight. That means that many earn between $11 and $32 per day. For many this is their only access to cash during the whole year.

In terms of public employment – for example, in health, education, and local government services – there are many problems. For me, one of the most devastating problems is the way public employment is politicized. In all too many cases, you are more likely to get a job if you belong to the party in power in your municipality and then you may be required to do campaigning for the party when the elections come around.

There are also problems, especially in the health sector, of unpaid wages. 

In addition, the governments often promote a system of dependence – handouts, especially before the elections; major projects at times dependent on the way your village votes; tin roofing when needed; road projects; and aid for building churches. (Don’t get me going on this last.) These type of government projects promote dependency and often crush initiatives of people and efforts to join together in independent organizations.

HURRICANES

I will only briefly mention the two hurricanes that hit here last November.

Not only did people lose homes and employment, they were stranded – as the people living under overpasses in San Pedro Sula attest or as people living in mountains villages experience as they maneuver washouts, landslides, and settling of the soil. 

Then, there is the slow pace at which rebuilding is happening, despite promises of foreign aid. 

COVID-19

I will note that, though there are regions that are not much affected by COVID-19, the pandemic has affected the country, especially an already-broken health system, and has been handled poorly. At times it appears as if the government has used public health policy to instill fear in the people (and squash public protest). But there are also cases of real malfeasance and what appears to be outright corruption and misuse of funds. Multi-mobile hospitals were purchased but only one or two have been set up – and at least another had been deemed inadequate for response to COVID.

THE PEOPLE ARE DESPERATE

And so, what can they do?

One of the panelists in the webinar noted that there is a history of trauma – of the separation of parents from the family.

Years ago, some parents left their families in the countryside to seek jobs in the major cities, in hopes of a better life for their loved ones. Thus, the idea of leaving is not new and, though it might be difficult, even traumatic, to leave for the US or Spain, this is not a new experience.

The question becomes for many mere survival, as a panelist noted. They long for a life where their family can thrive and so pursue a solution elsewhere. 

Some I know have gone to Spain and work there (even though they enter as tourists), but this option may be being restricted as Spain changes its policies.

In the past a few men here have worked for six or nine months in Canada (in Québec, some told me as they noted how cold it was there); there they are contracted to do agricultural work. But that is quite limited.

And so, despite the dangers of the journey, the uncertainty of employment or of even crossing the border, and even the threat of imprisonment, people continue to flee. Some make it; others are flown back. There are even some who, after being in the US for a number of months, decide to return to Honduras. 

But many are still looking for a way out.

Hearing of some of Biden’s initiatives to soften the drastic and inhumane policies of the Trump administration, some had hope that there would be a way to get to the US for some employment. 

Many “coyotes” (as we call those who promote and promise transportation to the US) took advantage of this hope and the desperation to promote even more aggressively their money-making businesses, telling people that they would have more chance of getting into the US (and being able to stay there) if they went with a child. I know of two cases where the father was going to leave with a child under five. I tried to tell them that the coyotes were not telling them the truth, trying to dissuade them. Neither sent with their sons, not because I convinced them but because the coyotes changed their tune and told them that the situation had changed.

MY RESPONSE

In all this, I feel saddened, frustrated. So many are suffering and there seems no way out.

I also feel indignant, not hopeful that there will be serious changes in US policies regarding immigration. I also fear that the US will continue to support policies that will keep the corrupt in power here in Honduras.

But I hope and pray that the people here can begin to take small steps to change the situation and that people in the US can promote real change in migration policy and in foreign relations with corrupt regimes, such as here in Honduras.

There are small signs of hope – but they are often hard to see.

There’s the coffee association in El Zapote that is working and trying to increase the efficiency of their work and the quality of their coffee. There is the neighbor and his cousin who are growing great tomatoes and branching out into other vegetables. There is also the effort of the diocesan CARITAS office to provide psychological support and legal aid for the poor at no cost.

The goal for me at this point is discern how to be present when people face the challenges and accompany them when they try to move forward. 

How will I do this? That’s not one question but it provokes a series of questions that I can only try to face with the help of the people and other friends here.

Staying home here in Honduras

For the last thirteen years, I’ve visited Iowa in the fall as a way to keep up connections between our parish and the parish of St. Thomas Aquinas in Ames and as a way to reconnect with friends. This year I’m staying home, here in Honduras. 

COVID-19 has changed our lives throughout the world. What do I see? These reflections are anecdotal, but you can find various sources that may help corroborate my observations.

COVID 19 

 Even as the country is opening up there continue to be hundreds of persons identified as COVID-19 positive every day and there have been more than 2500 deaths. 

Most of the cases are in the major cities, the north coast, and in certain municipalities. A friend told me that there is a special cemetery for COVID deaths in La Entrada, with about thirty interred there. La Entrada is a crossroads for transportation and so it has been more in peril than some other large towns.

There have been a number of cases in towns and villages in the parish, though it hasn’t affected Plan Grande where I live. I have heard of two who died with possible complications of COVID, as well as cases of people quarantined and even one young person has been intubated. This is not only in two municipal centers but also in some villages. 

A major problem, as I see it, is the failure of people to take even simple precautions here in the countryside. It’s troubling. I can understand why members of a family don’t wear masks, but I am troubled by the gatherings of people in towns for church services or other events with little concern for preventive measures, such a mask and distancing. 

Another problem, that I’ve mentioned before, is that people don’t want to let others know that they have been tested positive, for fear of being stigmatized. Thus, the number of cases may be undercounted. 

Yet, in the face of this, I have seen photos and reports of political meetings with little concern for health and safety. This may get more problematic as Honduras approaches the internal elections next March to choose the candidates for next November’s elections. (The internal elections are like the party primaries in the US.)

A few weeks ago, I came into Plan Grande and saw a large number of cars parked on the road. I stopped and asked a young man who is my godchild. He told me that is was a political meeting and added that many were without masks. Sure enough. I passed the patio of the house where the meeting was being held. There were more than sixty people there, seated close to each other in rows, with very few masks. Even the political authorities are not taking this seriously. (I wonder where they learned that.)  

Violence 

 There have been a number of cases of violence in the parish in the past two months. 

I am helping bring psychological help from our diocesan Caritas office to one extended family affected by a brutal death of a young woman. 

In at least one case, alcohol abuse seems to have had a role in the killings. Depression, mental illnesses, and drug and alcohol abuse are ills that are not being addressed. I wonder if we really need more regular psychological assistance to people in the countryside. 

In addition, I am sure that there is continuing domestic violence though this is hard to document since there is so often a veil of silence around domestic violence and intra-familiar abuse. 

Rains

We are in the rainy season, which begins in May and goes until early February. 

I feel as if there has been more rain this year than earlier. It also has been very hot during the days and the rains have been heavy. I have heard of several landslides, including at least one that destroyed a home (but, thanks be to God, the family escaped and the community is working together to help them.) 

Partly as a result of the rains and partly as the result of continuing maintenance the roads in our parish are worse than I have seen in three or more years. No wonder that I have had major repairs on the pick-up.

Harvests

The corn harvest is upon us. It seems to be pretty good which is a blessing. If there is sufficient corn, the people will at least have tortillas.

For a few months, the parish has been helping distribute corn and beans from the reserves in the parish. The custom here is for the parish to accept donations of corn and beans, especially for our parish training programs. Since there have been no major meetings in the parish since March, there is sufficient corn and beans to share with those in need.

The coffee harvest season is beginning. I have seen pickers out in a few fields, picking the first ripe berries, most of which are not very good. Later the fields will be ripe with higher quality berries. This will continue until February. A concern is whether there will be sufficient coffee-pickers, due to the corona virus. In our area a number of large coffee growers bring in Guatemalans to pick in their plantations. I wonder if this will be possible this year.

I'll be going down to the parish coffee field this week to take a few photos.

Pastoral life 

I’ll address these issues in a later post.

Getting into good trouble – looking good on wood

Soon after the death of John Lewis, the civil rights leader and US congressman, I came across this tweet of his from June 2018:

"Do not get lost in a sea of despair. Be hopeful, be optimistic. Our struggle is not the struggle of a day, a week, a month, or a year, it is the struggle of a lifetime. Never, ever be afraid to make some noise and get in good trouble, necessary trouble."

I agree completely and I may have said something similar to some people I know and love. If we truly try to follow Christ and serve our sisters and brothers, we’ll get into trouble. One of my favorite quotes of Fr. Dan Berrigan, SJ, is, “If you want to follow Jesus, you had better look good on wood.”

When I look at my ministry here in Honduras, it’s pretty safe. I’m not likely to have too many problems. After all, the mayor lives up the road from me, I am privileged as a member of the Catholic clergy, I am a US citizen, I am careful in what I say.

In some ways, I’m glad I’m here. I think that if I were living in the US today I might find myself in some very difficult situations. How can an advocate of nonviolence, a devotee of Dorothy Day and Martin Luther King, not get into trouble? How can one who looks to the witness of people against the Nazis, like Franz Jägerstätter and Alfred Delp, SJ, not speak up and act in the face of injustice, racism, and the militarization of a country?

(By the way, if you get a chance, watch A Hidden Life, a nearly three hour film on Blessed Franz Jägerstätter.)

But I’m here in Honduras and I’m reluctant to speak out too boldly against policies of the

US or Honduran government unless I’m ready to put my life on the line.

I’m not sure what I need to do in the long run, but now, facing the poverty of the people brought on by oppressive policies, facing the desperation of some in the light of the pandemic and the effects of the shut-down, perhaps the most important thing I can do is to be here, accompanying the people. After all, Dan Berrigan once said, “Don’t just do something. Stand there.”

And so I’m trying to stand here, in the midst of a pandemic, in the midst of a quarantine and a shut down that affects the people especially the poor.

Most people can go out in their vehicles, or go to banks, grocery stores, restaurants, and even pharmacies only once every two weeks, depending on the last number of our identity cards. No one is supposed to circulate on Saturdays and Sundays.

A few weeks ago I got letters from three of the mayors in our parish asking police and military authorities to let me pass by when I am travelling for pastoral activities. Two weeks ago, unsolicited, I got a salvo conducto that the Honduran Catholic Church had sought for the clergy. I can go out from Monday to Friday for pastoral work in the five departments of our diocese.

Most of the people I know do not have this and probably cannot obtain a salvo conducto. It is thus very difficult for most people to get medicine or take people to clinics without running through hoops.

I try not to abuse this and have gone out in the past few weeks for pastoral work, mostly dealing with young couples seeking to be married who had begun their pre-marriage formation before the quarantine began in March. There are six couples in one village, about an hour from my house by car. Some have not received their First Communion and two have not been baptized. So I went out this Wednesday to spend about two hours with them, helping them prepare for the sacraments. It was, for me, a very good experience, even though not all came. The challenge is to help people understand their faith in terms that make sense to them and their lives.

I also went out to one community to do an interview. There was some confusion on the time and so I got there late – after the couple called me. But it was good. As I left one of the witnesses at the interview asked me to pray for her father who was ill; among the problems was that he hadn’t been able to sleep for five nights! I told him I’d pray and also promised to go, visit him, and bring him communion, if he wanted.

She called me and asked me to come out Monday. I was most happy to go, even though I had to leave home at 7:00 am to get there. I visited the man who was ill, who has been a delegate of the Word for decades. I shared Communion with him and with some of his family. Someone told me that the husband of a couple I’d visited several times was ill and so we went there.

The roads to get to the house were terrible. After visiting and then sharing Communion with the couple, I went out and saw a cat sitting in the window of my car – hitching a ride, I joked.

 On the return trip I went too far over to the left  on the one lane "road" and got stuck in the mud. Even with four-wheel drive I couldn’t get out. Someone came along and tried digging out the tires a bit; when that didn’t work someone put rocks under the front tires and finally we got out. The lesson is: don’t go too far to the right or the left on a muddy road. I probably should think about getting chains.

Next week I’ll be going to another community for pre-marriage interviews. Since the road to the community where the couple lives is inaccessible even with four-wheel drive, we’ll meet in a neighboring village.

There are probably about twelve or thirteen more couples whom I need to interview with their witnesses. This year we have had an abundance of people seeking the sacrament of matrimony. This gives me great joy.

I began a new initiative for catechists this Sunday. I’ve noted that some of the catechists have Facebook accounts. I decided to set up a Facebook group for them, posting several days a week on topics that might help them. I’ll see how this goes – and try to make sure that I am faithful in this. My idea is to do something on a Sunday reading on Sunday. Something about Jesus on Monday. Wednesday I’ll post an image of Christ or the saints, trying to use art that might stretch their imagination. Fridays, I’ll have something on prayers. The other days I’m thinking about specific topics on themes for religious education as well as lives of the saints.

Last Wednesday, Fernando, the seminarian in the parish these past few months received the ministry of acolyte. The bishop came, as well as some of Fernando’s family. It was good to assist at Mass as well as visit with the bishop at a meal.

I have also been reading a lot – including a few mystery novels. I read Henri Nouwen’s Clowning in Rome for the first time and found it very helpful for my personal growth and my understanding of ministry.

I have also been active on several conferences.

As I mentioned in an earlier blog, there were four mornings on COVID and corruption in Honduras. The quality of the presentations was mixed, though two of them have helped me to being thinking about how I might better respond to what is happening and prepare for the future.

I also participated in two Zoom sessions with the sisters and associates of the Dubuque Franciscans. They are having a chapter in November but are seeking input and involving associates in the process. There was one on English on last Tuesday and one in Spanish last Saturday. It was great to connect with the sisters as well as with the other Central American associates. Being connected with these sisters has been somewhat of a lifeline for me. They are an inspiration, especially the sisters here in Honduras. I regularly talk with one or two of them which is good for me in many ways.

I also spoke via Zoom to a student of a good friend of mine, Erlin Johnny, who has an English institute in Santa Rosa. The topic was conflict and I used some of the materials I had used for workshops in Spanish. It was a bit strange trying to do this in English!

I have also been participating in a weekly discussion of Catholic social teaching with a group of folks in Alabama. It’s been good to re-read some of the early documents.

And I've been cooking. I made the best eggplant parmesan I've ever made. I shared a bit with the pastor who found it good. I've also made potato salad and tabouleh. And I have lots of fresh tomatoes from a farmer neighbor.

August is upon us. August 10 is the feast of the deacon, Saint Lawrence. I hope to write something on the diaconate for the first ten days of the month. If you have any suggestions of themes, let me know

If you have gotten this far, thanks. I’ll write more later.

God bless – and wash your hands.

Let us pray for each other.

And take time to thank God for the beauty that is all around us. It may give us the strength to take up the cross and struggle for life and justice.

... even as the rain clouds come in.

Update on my diaconal ministry

I haven't written for more than two weeks and so here's a long post on what's happening.

Last Wednesday was the fourth anniversary of my ordination to the diaconate in the diocese of Santa Rosa de Copán.

The last four months have been quite different than the previous years.

Since March 23 we have been quarantined, staying at home except for designated days to go out. As a result my diaconal activities were very limited.

I probably could have gotten away with going out to villages occasionally, since I know the mayors and, according to our pastor, the police recognize me. But I decided that I should not count on any privileges. Thus, I travelled only on the designated days, mostly recently only once every two weeks.

I did go out for several days during Holy Week and in early May to accompany the municipality’s program of providing some basic items, driving some of the workers as well as some of the bags. In a very real way, that was my diaconal service, accompanying the outreach to the poor.

 I also began walking several days a week here in Plan Grande, which provides a great opportunity to talk with folks.  I even brought Communion to two home bound persons.

A few weeks ago, at the suggestion of the pastor, I got letters from three of the mayors that would, hopefully, le me get around a little to do some pastoral work. Then I found out that the Catholic Church at the national level had obtained a salvo conducto for the clergy. Thus I could go out from Monday to Friday within the limits of the diocese.

About a month ago, the church at a national level released protocols for public Masses – masks, distancing, use of gel and disinfecting of persons on entering the church, communion in the hand, and disinfecting of the church before and after the Masses or services. Even though people were having celebrations in some villages, even here in Plan Grande, I did not feel comfortable presiding until the protocols were out. For the most part the protocols are being followed here in Plan Grande, as well as in the main church in Dulce Nombre. One of the problems is that though the government has been claiming to distribute several million masks, many people do not have them. Two weeks ago, I bought a hundred from a friend in Santa Rosa.

Other things are slowly resuming,

Just before the curfew began, I was planning to meet with several couples for their pre-marriage interviews. There were about 15 couples ready for the meetings which we had to postpone.

I finally met with one couple and then, at the pastor’s insistence, met them again to talk with the young man who was not baptized. We finally arranged his baptism last Wednesday and the couple’s wedding yesterday.

I baptized the young man in Dolores on Wednesday, a nearly perfect way to celebrate my diaconal ordination. It was a joy to be able to celebrate with him and with a small group of folks.

The celebration included a young couple who were presenting their forty-three day old child. Here there is a custom of presenting a child in church forty days after birth.

The pastor asked me to preach the day after, the feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel, at the Mass in the neighboring town of Candelaria. It was the third Mass I’ve been to since March and the first I’ve preached at.

One very distant community in the parish, about an hour’s drive from where I live, has six couples ready for the sacrament of matrimony. I had decided to go there and meet with the couples and their witnesses since they cannot easily get out of their area. There is no public transportation. In addition, they are not supposed to go out except on the days designated by the last number of their id. Obviously, not every couple would be permitted to go out the same day. So it made sense for me to go. So I have gone out three times and had two interviews each day.

What is fascinating about these couples is that the initiative to seek the sacrament of matrimony came from them. They began meeting and discussing a number of things. At first, they had some resistance from some folks in their village since they were meeting without someone from the village’s church council. But finally they began receiving the preparation for the sacrament. Now they only have to wait a few details and would like to be married in August. Of course, they have to do this in a small ceremony, probably six separate wedding. Two of them women will also have to receive baptism before the wedding. I have encouraged them to wait for a bid celebration next year and I have promised to help buy a chancho hornado – a roasted pig – for the celebration next year.

What is encouraging about this group is that the initiative came from them; they didn’t wait for someone to say that they could start marriage preparation. They met and then asked for it. I am encouraging them to continue to meet after their weddings and form a base community among themselves.

I am waiting to hear from other couples in other villages for the interviews. I also have to look into how to prepare a few of them for baptism before their wedding. I am looking forward to this opportunity to serve.

Two weeks ago, the clergy of Honduras were supposed to have our national study week. Of course, we couldn’t get together but they managed to have online Zoom sessions for five mornings. I wand psychology. as looking forward to this because the theme was the protection in the church of children, minors, and person in situations of vulnerability. The study week was led by Father Daniel Portillo of CEPROME of the Pontifical University of Mexico. About two hundred clergy participated, including a few bishops. I was aware of most of the information since I had been at a meeting on the theme in November 2018 in Bogota, Colombia, sponsored by the Latin American Conference of Religious and I had also just finished a four week online study with CEPROME on Abuse in the Family. But it is so important that we in Latin America begin to face this openly and seriously.

This week there is supposed to be a four-morning online study for the diocesan clergy on COVID and Corruption in Honduras. There will be presentations on the theme from the perspectives of sociology, economic, medicine, the law, I am looking forward to this.

The situation continues with serious outbreaks in Tegucigalpa, San Pedro Sula, and several departments on the north coast. Here in our diocese, the situation is mixed. There were efforts to open up a bit, but they have been pulled back in Gracias Lempira and may be in La Entrada Copán.

The situation is difficult for many, especially those in the cities where people are not working and for those who depended on the informal economy, selling items in the streets. In our parish there are people who do not have enough to eat but many people in the countryside have some access to food. Yet, the situation could get more serious. A neighbor told me that in Dulce Nombre beans are about 28 lempiras a pound, though they are about 5 lempiras less here. (One lempira is about four cents of a dollar.) A few months ago, beans were 15 lempiras a pound.

One bright spot is that the 7000 of green coffee sent by the association of small coffee owners in El Zapote arrived in Ames and the money has been received by the association. They will therefore have some money to help with basic needs. Those is central Iowa can contact El Zapote Coffee which recently had a drive through sale of coffee in the parking lot of St. Thomas Aquinas Church.

What to expect?

I do not know. The medical system is severely threatened. And even though the government has received more than 100 million dollars worth of aid, corruption has been serious. Whether the system will be able to respond to the cases is unknown.

Yet people continue their lives.

What do I say to people? Don’t lose hope.

I also share with them what a friend who is a doctor working with COVID-19 patients has told his medical colleagues:

Don’t panic.

Be positive.

Kindness counts.

Wash your hands, wear protective gear, and stay home if you’re sick.

I think that’s good advice for all of us.

On a personal note, I have been able to be in contact with folks – Skype, Zoom, and a good phone calling plan have enabled me to talk with friends not only here in Honduras but also in the US and Palestine. I am also participating in some discussions with folks in the US and participated in some education events here and from Mexico. Reaching across borders, if only electronically, is important. I have spoken once with my spiritual director and have to arrange another session the end of this month.

I have been doing a lot of reading. I completed ten books in June – six of them novels! But I also have read two books by Henri Nouwen, Reaching Out and Clowning in Rome,  both of which have been very helpful. I am also in the middle of a monumental work of Gerald Schlabach, A Pilgrim People: Becoming a Catholic Peace Church.

What the next months hold is unpredictable. I won’t do my usual fall trip to the US since the situation of the pandemic is still up in the air. I do hope that I can do some more writing – mostly on the book on my path to the diaconate that I’ve been trying to put together for about a year.

In the meantime, be safe, stay sane, pray a lot, and wash your hands.