Summer, Lent and life in the parish

SUMMER 

Summer is here in our part of Honduras. Here we have two seasons – summer (the dry season) and winter (the wet season). 

In our part of the country, in the mountains in the south of the country but on the Atlantic side of the Continental Divide, we have a short dry season – usually from February to May. The rest of the year is the rainy season. The dry season is usually the hottest time of the year. The sun is strong and it seldom rains, which makes for dusty roads.

This year, after all the rain in the middle of the year and the heavy rains of the two hurricanes that hot Honduras, it is a welcome change to not have to worry about wet, muddy, slippery roads.

AFTER EFFECTS OF THE HURRICANES 

A few times in January, I thought I wouldn’t be able to get up a few hills that had become very slippery, with just a little rain. A few times I thought I wasn’t going to make it or would get too close to an embankment. But, with the help of God and a few friends, and the fancy tools of the new parish car, I got where I wanted to go. 

The other day, meeting with catechists in one sector of our parish, we were sharing how we felt about this past year. I realized that I was not really fearful of COVID-19, although I am extremely careful and share my concern with others. But I realized that I really am a bit afraid of getting stuck in the mud – again! 

One day I had to go to a distant village where I had gotten stuck trying to go up a small hill and, for a few moments, I hope the meeting was cancelled. I didn’t want to get stuck. But I went there with no problems. 

But going around to a few distant aldeas (villages), I noted the effects of the hurricanes, especially roads that are very narrow because of landslides, including some that may suffer more damage when the rains come again in late May. It’s been three months since the hurricanes and still there are roads that have not been repaired or have only had minimal repairs.

The after-effects of the hurricanes are still wreaking havoc in Honduras and people are still suffering.

In our parish we are working with one community which will probably have to relocate most of the houses. They have organized a committee to oversee the work and have prepared a report and a map of the situation. Out of the 131 houses in the village, 5 sere destroyed by the landslides and land settling and 40 more were slightly damaged or are at risk. We hope to help them as they rebuild or relocate.

Last Friday I took a friend, a Dubuque Franciscan sister, to San Pedro Sula to pick up their community’s car which had been in accident.

The traffic into and out of San Pedro Sula was terrible. But what really shocked me was what we saw at the entry into San Pedro. The roads from Santa Rosa de Copán and from Tegucigalpa come together just as one enters the city. Recently an overpass was built to ease traffic. 

Now, there are more than thirty tents with people displaced by the hurricanes – three months after these disasters. When will the government do something to respond to theses needs? Money has been promised and some has come in – but will it be siphoned off for enrich corrupt politicians and their allies? And, since this is an election year here in Honduras, will aid be politicized, going to party followers and not to those really in need? And will the aid be publicized as gifts from a politician or a political party, rather than the money which has been designated by donors or governments for the good of those affected? 

THE COFFEE HARVEST 

In our part of Honduras, coffee is harvested between November and March, depending on the local climatic conditions. For your information, coffee “berries” (which have the coffee beans inside) mature at different times on the same coffee bushes; thus, they have to be collected three or more times during the harvest season.

This year many people are reporting good harvests. There are some people whose harvests are poor because of coffee rust (la roya) or the loss of fields by landslides. 

We have had several good harvests of coffee in the parish coffee field. I help a little with the harvest but I cannot harvest even one-fourth as fast as many people who have been harvesting since they were four years old. But I do transport the volunteers who come in from distant villages and often help bring the lunch prepared for them by women here in Plan Grande. There should be at least one more harvest later this month.

PROJECTS

For at least eight years, the parish of St. Thomas Aquinas in Ames have been providing partial scholarships to high school and middle school students in a distance education project in four places in our parish. This year about 150 students were helped. The program, called Maestro en Casa (Teacher in the Home) or IHER (Honduran Institute of Education by Radio) meets a need, mostly for those who live in remote rural communities who would otherwise have little or no access to study past sixth grade. They listen to radio program, have workbooks, and meet once a week with a teacher. It may not be the best option, but it does help.

About seven years ago, after a visit from Fr. Jon Seda from St. Thomas Aquinas parish, a group of small coffee farmers began working together to improve the quality of their coffee and to export quality coffee to the US through St. Thomas Aquinas. Now a separate group, El Zapote Café, is importing coffee from this association which now includes twenty-one members, two of whom are women. 

Working with some foundations here and with the help of the Iowa group, the association is building a processing facility which will help them to cut costs, improve the quality of their coffee, and uses processes which do minimal damage to the environment. It has been a great joy to see their growth.

Moises, the president of the association, with his son

After the second hurricane hit our area, we began receiving assistance from other parts of the diocese – mostly in terms of food stuffs and clothing. We have been able to deliver these to rural communities. On Ash Wednesday, I combined taking 56 bags of provisions to a community with presiding at a Celebration of the Word with distribution of ashes and communion.

The work on murals in the church continues. The chapel with the Blessed Sacrament is being painted now with images of Saints Francis and Clare.

Work on the other chapel will probable begin in March and will include images of Saints Isidore and María, patrons of agricultural workers, and Saint Nunzio Sulprizio, a 19 year old who was recently canonized (on the same day as St. Oscar Romero and Pope Saint Paul VI); he was an orphan who was maltreated by an uncle and died about much suffering. He also was a blacksmith; in Dulce Nombre there are many blacksmiths, mostly making horseshoes and so his image will remind them of the dignity of their work.

PASTORAL WORK

We are slowly and cautiously opening up in our parish pastoral work.

We had our first Parish Council meeting in January. We have our second this Saturday.

The pastor, assisted by a recently ordained transitional deacon and a seminarian in his year of pastoral experience, have been visiting many communities for Mass as well as visits to the sick and the sacraments of baptism, confession, anointing of the sick, and a few weddings.

I have begun to visit communities on Sunday mornings several times a month to preside at Celebrations of the Word with Communion. Sometimes I will also visit the sick.

Last Sunday I visited, bringing communion to four persons in three homes in a community. It has no communion minister and so there are few occasions when they and a neighboring have communion. The pastor gets out there every two months for Mass, but I think I’ll try to get out there about once every two months or so. I was reminded of the importance of this when a catechist in the village told me that Don Efraín, who is partially blind, asked her when I was coming to bring him communion.

I have begun meeting with small groups of catechists in the rural sectors of the parish. It has been a very good experience because this has provided a space for me to hear how they are feeling, to help them think through what they might be able to do now and what they might be able to do in the future. I have come away from them with a sense of hope, since I see their enthusiasm but also the growing ability of some to make thoughtful decisions on their own, not referring every issue to the priest or deacon.

I’ve started the meetings sharing how we are feeling after all that has happened this year. I hear some fear of the pandemic as well as some depression because of the isolation, some sadness because of the suffering of people as well as some spirit of struggling to go forward as we can. I heard of efforts to help others in the community as well as efforts to pray in family groups. After I’ve visited all the areas, I need to plan how to go forward – with great care, but helping the catechists develop a strong pastoral sense and a capacity to carefully discern what can be done.

I’ve also had some meetings with people preparing for baptism or marriage. There will probably be more as Lent ends and people prepare for baptisms of children and for marriages after Easter. 

I had one last baptism before Lent last Sunday in Dulce Nombre.

THE PANDEMIC

The pandemic is still here and recently it seems to have affected our parish more than before. 

There is one community that has been severely affected and there have been cases even here in Plan Grande. Here, the families of those affected have mostly been very cautious and have avoided contact with those outside their households. 

There are also continuing cases in the town of Dulce Nombre. 

Santa Rosa de Copán has been affected quite a bit. This week a priest of the diocese died as a result of COVID-19.

When will the vaccine get here? The President had said that we could expect it n the second half of February but now the government is saying the first vaccines will get here in March. We shall see. But what will really be important is careful attention to how the vaccine is distributed. There is a great danger of politicization and favoritism. 

 

LENT

Lent will be different this year. 

We won’t have village-wide Stations of the Cross on Fridays or the large parish Stations on the Friday before Holy Week.

Ash Wednesday was much like it was in the past, since it is largely decentralized. In the morning, we had a Mass at 10 for the Delegates of the Word from more than half the villages. The blessed ashes were shared with them for distribution at a celebration in their communities.

In addition to that Mass, Padre German, the pastor, had at least four other Masses. Fernando, the transitional deacon, went to two villages and I presided at three Celebrations of the Word with Ashes and Communion. 

My last was here in Plan Grande. The surprise for me was the presence of at least twenty of those who had come here to Plan Grande to work in the coffee harvest. Most were young people from Esperanza, Intibucá. It was a joy to see them present for the celebration of Ash Wednesday with members of our Plan Grande community. 

DUST 

 “Remember that you are dust and to dust you have to return,” I said many times on Ash Wednesday as I traced a cross on the foreheads of many people.

As I prepared for preaching, I began to think about this.

According to Genesis, human beings were made from the dust of the earth. What a miracle. God transforms dust into a living being in God’s own image. 

Yes, we will die and return to dust. But God will transform this dust into the new creature, resurrected in and with Christ.

There is hope – though it looks as if evil and suffering will triumph. But our God is a God of miracles and transformation.

Last Friday, talking with Sister Pat in the car on the way to San Pedro Sula, she asked me for some references or ideas about the Cross and Resurrection, as she prepares a presentation for a congregation of sisters. I was inspired and said that that it is important to consider “the transformative power of suffering-with.” Note that I didn’t say “suffering,” but “suffering with.” 

As we talked, I realized that this is part of my understanding of the power of Jesus. He suffered with us; he suffers with us – and this is transformative. 

I need to develop this and will try to use this Lent as a time for reflecting on this, especially in light of the hymn in Ephesians 2 that reminds us that Christ Jesus humbled himself and took on our humanity, to the point of suffering with us. By this we are saved.

There is hope. There is resurrection.

September 2020

This September has been hotter than usual and the rains have been rather intense. 

The dirt roads are often hazardous – with potholes and trenches running across the roads. In a few places there have been small landslides and in one place the road is sinking, because of the rains. But the month has been full of joys and sorrows for the people of our parish.

FEAST DAY 

September 12 is the parish feast – Dulce Nombre de María. The pastor asked me to preach and so I prepared a homily. But in the morning, thanks to Terrence Moran, I came across a poem for the feast in English by Dom Pedro Casadáliga, a retired Brazilian bishop who recently died. I was able to find a Spanish version and concluded my homily with the poem. Here’s the English version: 

By Saying Your Name, Mary 

    -Pedro Casaldaliga  

By saying your name, Mary, 

We say that Poverty 

Has drawn the attention of God’s eyes. 

By saying your name, Mary, 

We say that the Promise 

Knows what a mother’s milk tastes like. 

 By saying your name, Mary, 

We say that our flesh 

Clothes the silence of the Word. 

By saying your name, Mary, 

We say that the Kingdom comes 

Walking alongside History. 

 By saying your name, Mary 

We say that we are with the Cross 

And with the flames of the Spirit. 

 By saying your name, Mary, 

We say that every name 

Can be full of Grace. 

 By saying your name, Mary, 

We say that every death 

Can also be His Passion. 

 By saying your name, 

Mary, We say that His All 

Is the cause of Our Joy. 

TRAUMA 

    I mentioned in a previous post to a tragic and brutal death of a young woman and then the death of her mother. At the instigation of the pastor, I went to visit the families to see what was needed. 

    The pain and the trauma are deep and so I contacted the diocesan Caritas office and arranged for two psychologists to come. 

    The first visit was to the village of the woman who was killed where the psychologist met individually with about ten family members in the church. Since the village is more than 90 minutes from the Caritas office in Santa Rosa, we arranged the second sessions in the Dulce Nombre parish center. A driver in the parish pick up for medical needs went to the community to pick up the people and bring them to Dulce Nombre, while I went to Santa Rosa to pick up the psychologists. The psychologists will come one more time to see the people. 

     For years I have been concerned about the mental health and trauma problems in our parish. The violence as well a domestic abuse leave deep scars in many people. I am glad that we were able to respond to this one family, but the needs remain. Perhaps we need to think about finding psychologists to come on a regular basis. 

 SACRAMENTS 

     Because of the pandemic, we have generally suspended religious formation classes in the rural aldeas. But there were some people who were prepared for the sacraments before the shut-down. I had about five interview sessions arranged for couples in one aldea who had completed their marriage preparation. But a few days after we arranged the meetings, the country closed down all travel. I am hoping to get back to them this coming Sunday to arrange the interviews, which I will do in their village. There are other couples who have been calling me to arrange the interviews. It is really encouraging to see these young people seeking the sacrament. 

    There were about 14 people in the catechumenate who would have been baptized at the Easter Vigil. I did get to meet with six of them and we are arranging their baptism and first communion for October 10. I will be trying to contact some of the others to see if they are prepared and still want to be baptized.

    Last Saturday, the diocese celebrated the Chrism Mass, which is usually scheduled in Holy Week, most often on Holy Thursday morning. But this year there was no travel at that time. The celebration was held in a large space with just the priests and a few others present. I served as deacon. 

GETTING AROUND 

     I have been getting out a bit more. Two Sundays I went to distant villages to preside at a Celebration of the Word with Communion. Next Sunday, the feast of St. Francis of Assisi, I’ll be going out to three places – two of them have St. Francis as their patron. The pastor is away and so I am delegated to help them celebrate their feast day in a solemn way. 

     The regulations for circulation have become a little less strict. Now we can circulate and get to the banks once every five days. Before it was once every two weeks and then, more recently, once every ten days. I do have a safe conduct pass, arranged for clergy in the country but I try not to abuse the privilege for personal travel. 

     Getting around means more wear on the car. I have had two problems which were fixed with a minimum of time and money – a starter that wasn’t working and the ball bearings in one wheel. However, I may soon have access to a new pick up because of an anonymous donation. 

CHURCH MURAL 

 The church in Dulce Nombre is being repaired. The interior has been painted and the exterior will be repainted sometime in the next year. Much of the funding for this has come from the parish itself. 

     As we looked at the interior of the church, I noted the apse of the church, which is rounded in the Romanesque style. I thought we might have a mural painted there. 

    Well, we are beginning this process now. A muralist came about ten days ago and will begin painting soon. I will be writing about this in a separate blog post – with pictures. This is exciting. Without asking, I’ve had three people promise donations to cover the costs. 

THE FUTURE 

    The future is very uncertain. One concern of some people is whether people will come back to church when the restrictions are lessened. Now we are supposed to have celebrations with limited attendance, with people using masks and observing other health protocols. Sad to say, many rural communities are not doing this. This bothers me and I will occasionally say something; but I try to always have a supply of masks to give out to people. 

     I am not sure why people are so resistant to the health protocols. For some, I think they don’t realize the seriousness of the pandemic. We’ve been largely spared in our parish, but who knows the future. For some, they just don’t want to be bothered. Others just don’t have masks. 

    Talking with the pastor, we are concerned about those who feel left out and so we have to think about ways of reaching out to them, perhaps encouraging the lay pastoral workers in the aldeas to visit homes. I have been encouraging people to pray the rosary in October in their homes – or with their close neighbors. Even if they do this only once a week, it is a way to begin to foster a spirituality that is rooted in the family. 

    The danger is to think that we can return to the pre-pandemic church, with large meetings, big processions, and more. I think what we need to nurture is a spirituality of the church lived out in the families and in small groups. We will thus need to get out of the church buildings and not depend on old structures to help people live as followers of Christ. 

    There are many challenges. I pray that I may be open to them and to God’s call to be with the people.

Update on the parish of Dulce Nombre

Honduras has been on a curfew and lock down since March 16. It has gone through various phases – at first only once a week; then, once every two weeks; now, once every ten days (depending on the last number of your official ID).

Schools are closed, although in some places teachers come out once a week with tasks for the kids. This has created major challenges since most people don’t have internet access. Even having students do work at home can be a challenge, since there are many parents who have had limited formal education. A neighbor has been doing school work with some kids and I am delighted to hear her having the kids work on their letters.

Some older young people have limited access to smart phones and a very few have tablets or computers. One I saw a young man working on his high school classes at home. I think he was in one of the Maestro en Casa schools that St. Thomas has helped fund.

There has been no public transportation nor even taxi service in the cities and towns until very recently; now there is very limited public transport (between the major cities). Transport by private vehicle is limited. Until two weeks ago, there was to be no circulation of cars on Saturdays and Sundays and only once every two weeks depending on your ID number.

This, of course, has affected pastoral work in the parish. People cannot get out.

The government has put major limits on public assemblies and so, for several months, it was not permitted to have public Masses or Celebrations of the Word. Some people still did have them, though I think this was imprudent, especially since there was little adherence to health safety protocols. Except for a few funeral services I did not go out.

I did go out twice with the local government efforts to bring some basic foodstuffs to the communities.

The parish has assisted some families that still have needs for food and basic supplies. Also, the parish has been distributing corn and beans to families in need. (For years people have donated corn and beans to the parish to help in feeding people who come for parish formation activities, as well as for those in need. Since there are no parish meetings, there are moe basic grains available for those in need.

In June the bishops’ conference put out protocols for public Masses and so I began to participate in the Sunday Celebrations of the Word here in Plan Grande, partly because they were trying to practice some safety measures. Soon, I found out that though use of masks was mandated by the government (and the church), some people didn’t have masks, even though the government claims to have distributed several million masks. I decided to purchase several hundred masks to have available for folks.

Masses in the main church in Dulce Nombre have sometimes been broadcast over Facebook. In other communities, some people have sought out Masses on the television from one or two Catholic stations. The pastor has gone out to several communities on Sundays for Mass.

Protocols on the door of the main church in Dulce Nombre.

Religious formation has been restricted because of the difficulties of observing basic safety measures, especially with kids. However, we are beginning to open up the possibility of receiving the sacraments for those who had almost completed the formation. This particularly is affecting a good number of couples (20 or more) who had been in the middle of their pre-marriage classes. I originally had more than six interviews of couples scheduled for the first week of the curfew. They have, been postponed.

I have met with catechists in one major town where there are six catechumens who were preparing for baptism at the Easter Vigil. I hope to be able to meet with other catechists to see what we can do. I also started a Facebook group for catechists to try to do a little formation on line.

One of my concerns is that we need to provide materials and assistance for families. I’m planning to prepare a book on the Rosary to promote praying the Rosary in families, especially in the month of October.

In July I got letters from three of the local mayors to ease travelling around. Then I got a safe-conduct pass from the government, in my role as a member of the clergy. I then began to go out to several communities for the last pre-marriage interviews as well as for some formation on baptism or communion for those who had not received these sacraments. I also have gone out twice for baptisms.

I also assisted at the wedding of five couples in a distant village.

Several times I have gone out to visit people in difficult situations. Twice I arranged to deliver medicine. Several times I’ve visited the sick. And then there are the funerals. Friday, the pastor asked me to go to a funeral of a two month old infant; it was very difficult since the mother was severely traumatized.

I’ve also gone out a few times just to listen to some people who need accompaniment. In one case I arranged for a phone visit of the troubled person with a psychologist from the diocesan Caritas office. Yesterday I went out and talked to members of a family who have experienced a traumatic killing of a woman. I will be trying to talk with some folks to see what can be done to get them some professional help. The need for professional psychological help is becoming ever more apparent. We need to think of what can be done to provide places where people can be listened to and begin a process of healing.

The health situation continues to be problematic. The Honduran health system was extremely poor before the pandemic, but it has been stretched to its limits. Even the Secretariat of Health speaks about a broken system. This is exacerbated by ineptitude and inefficiency on the part of the government and the failure to pass on reliable information. The number of tests is limited and there seems to be some problems (including the disappearance of some thousands of tests.) And then there is the corruption. Millions of dollars of aid have supposedly been given to Honduras; field hospitals and respirators have supposedly been purchased, but some of them have not been delivered, others are not the right equipment or are defective; the prices paid have been extremely high in some cases, which leads many of us to suspect that there is wide-spread corruption. It has gotten so bad that people have taken to writing on the streets: “Where’s the money? We demand it.”

The pandemic has mostly affected the large cities and the north coast. The drastic measures have perhaps slowed the spread to other areas, though there are a good number of cases in the department of Copan where I lived, especially in the cities of La Entrada, Copán Ruinas, Cucuyagua, and Santa Rosa de Copán. There are cases in the main town of the parish, Dulce Nombre de Copán, as well as in one aldea.

But many people don’t seem to see that this is a serious problem, going about without masks. A further problem is the stigmatization of those who are COVID-19 positive. To avoid this, some people have hidden the fact that family members have tested positive.

In the midst of this the pastor has had people working on the church grounds in Dulce Nombre, repainting the church, repairing some structures, and more. We hope to have a muralist paint the apse of the church when he can get here from Tegucigalpa.

Where so de go from here? We're still trying to find our way.

I’ll try to write more on this in a week or two.

In the meantime, let us keep each other in prayer.

living with the curfew - the week after Easter

STAY AT HOME - ¡QUEDATE EN CASA

I’m an introvert. I have lived by myself for about fifty years. At times I did have someone living with me for short periods; I did have two roommates during my two years of grad school at Boston College; I took care of Dad at home in Ames for the last two or so years of his life; and I had a few people stay with me there for a few months. But I’m used to staying at home alone.

I like to have people over and have loved cooking big meals. I often did this for groups of students when I worked in campus ministry in Ames. But when they left, I turned the music on loud and washed the dishes – by myself.

Being alone, you can decide what you are going to do and don’t have to always plan with someone else.

One of the challenges for me of being a deacon and working in the church is that, though one might live alone, it is important to be available, to be willing to change schedules to meet the needs of people.

And so the curfew we are under has not been super hard for me. I’ve finished four books and am in the middle of three more. I’ve cleaned a few rooms of the house. I’ve made soup and baked bread. I’ve been in contact with a few friends by telephone and Skype or Zoom. It’s been a little lonely, but not overly difficult. Most of all I miss the human contact.

THE CURFEWS

We’ve been under various levels of curfew for the past month or so. Right now we’re permitted to go out to banks and markets only once a week – on a day determined by the last digit of our id. You can go out other mornings to the local small stores (called tiendas or pulperías here.) I’ve gone out to get water or eggs and went to Dulce Nombre once to get cooking gas and a few groceries. My next chance will be this coming Thursday. 

Some communities are closing themselves off almost completely, including Santa Rosa de Copán and, closer to home, San Agustín. They let emergency vehicles and selected and inspected vehicles to bring in provisions. Towns and villages have set up road blocks at the entrance to some areas. The vehicles and persons are sprayed with a disinfectant. There is one spray for people (gente) and another for vehicles. I have no idea how effective they are. My pickup and I got sprayed several times last week.

Otherwise we’re confined. The message is “Quedate en casa – Stay at home!”

I believe in the efficacy and importance of the curfew and have been a bit upset when I see people gathering together. The concept of “social distancing” is, I believe, almost completely foreign to the Honduran culture. I expect that there will be more governmental restrictions to try to curtail the interaction and prevent the spread of the virus, due to the lack of social distancing.

I’ve worn a mask at times and often warned people about getting too close to one another. One reaction I’ve had from two guys is that this is because of “fear.” That may be a macho reaction or a reaction of young guys who have no sense of taking precautions. But it is troubling. Yet there are some who take it seriously.

DISTRIBUTING AID

Yet last week I went out for three days to several communities, accompanying some people from the municipality to distribute a bag of food and a bag of soaps and bleach to poor families.

This has been a very interesting experience. I'm glad my pick up is in good shape (and I had a tank full of fuel).

Our pastor, Padre German, had insisted ,when he met with the mayors, that the aid must not be politicized and that it must go to the neediest.

The mayor of Concepción did not go with us – which to me is a good sign, though the assistant mayor was with us several times. Many volunteers did wear the government employee vests, but I did not hear them talk about the aid in a partisan way. At least in our area, the bags with aid had no government propaganda in them or on the bags, as I’ve seen in other distribution of bags to the needy. They sometimes walked a distance to deliver the bags to the families.

What was most interesting for me was the attitude of these young workers, most of whom I already knew, though not well. I found out a few things: two days I worked with a young couple from a nearby town whose young twins call me ‘Ho! Ho!” -  thinking I am Santa Claus!

Driving the workers around, I listened as they talked about the distribution. They wanted to make sure that the neediest get the help they need. They had lists that local leaders had prepared, but at times they questioned them. They also sometimes made decisions on the spot to benefit the neediest.

This did not go over well in a couple of places. Some people wanted the aid to be given equally to all. But only so much aid was available. Yet over 1500 households were helped.

My guess is that there will be further distributions in two weeks. I hope I can still help them in all this.

THE WIDER SITUATION

Last night the government reported 397 cases with 25 deaths. But the numbers are probably higher. There are reports that some 19 or so sailors who were flown in from Dubai via Brazil have tested positive but have not been included in the government statistics. There is one reported case in the department of Copán where I live.

The government is also telling people to wear masks when they go out in public. But how will people be able to find them or buy them or even make them. There was a report that the government is going to be distributing masks in San Pedro Sula where there is the highest incidence of cases of COVID-19.

A real worry is hunger. Honduras has a poverty rate of 65%, according to the World Bank. With business closed and those in the informal economy (selling food, vegetables, and more on the street) virtually shut down, how are the people going to eat.

The government has set aside funds for providing emergency food stuffs through the municipalities. There seems to be some problems in a few areas and in the San Pedro Sula area there have been protests of hungry people. Here in the parish where I live the distribution seems to be going smoothly, though slowly in some places. The food is meant for the neediest, but some people are complaining and saying that all should get the aid. This may lead to some problems in future distribution of food stuffs.

There is some control of access to towns, as noted above. 

In at least one place, the road has been completely obstructed to prevent vehicles from passing through.

But, there are some people who are objecting to getting their cars or motorcycles sprayed. This could lead to some violence.

Another concern is how long people can endure the curfew. This is especially problematic since we are in the dry season and one of the hottest times of the year. It's been up to 89 in the share, here in Plan Grande. But a friend in La Entrada told me it was close to 99 there. I cannot begin to imagine how the people in San Pedro Sula and the northern coast are enduring temperatures close to 100 degrees or even higher.

But a really serious issue is the lack of medial supplies and infrastructure to response. Some medical personnel in San Pedro Sula have been protesting this, according to one report.

THE FUTURE

My fear is that COVID-19 may spread due to the lack of control by the authorities, the lackadaisical approach of many people, the lack of social distancing, and the lack of medical support. I hope that I am wrong.

In the meantime, I keep encouraging people to stay at home. I’ve had phone calls about religious education classes and Sunday celebrations. I try to explain the danger and the measures that may prevent the spread of the virus and tell them to wait.

What more?

Wait, patiently and attentively, ready to respond when needed.

And pray.

Reading The Plague in a time of pandemic

Last  night I finished reading Albert Camus’s The Plague. I wouldn’t recommend it for everyone, but it deeply touched me.

On the last page, the fictional narrator states why he wrote:

“[he] resolved to compile this chronicle, so that he should not be one of those who hold their peace but should bear witness in favor of those plague-stricken people; so that some memorial of the injustice and outrage done them might endure; and to state quite simply what we learn in time of pestilence: that there are more things to admire in men than to despise.” (p, 308)

Camus presents some stunning portraits of the people involved, with little commentary. If you haven’t read the book, you might want to put off reading this post. I will be revealing some important parts of the plot.

There are scenes that seemed almost sacramental – something one might not expect of the atheist Camus, but I guess he was so imbued by the Catholic culture of France that he could not fail to reflect them.  The discussion between Tarrou and Dr. Rieux seemed like a confession. After it was over, they went had swam in the sea. Confession and baptism?

Dr. Rieux is central to the account. But I found the smuggler Cottard and the journalist Rambert an interesting contrast.

Rambert keeps trying to find a way to leave the city and return to his love. With the help of Cottard, he waits for two guards who will get him out. Nothing works. Then he gets word that he can leave at midnight. But then he demurs and joins Rieux in the battle against the plague.

What happened?

He comes to feel that “It may be shameful to be happy by oneself.” (p. 209) And then, to explain himself more fully, he notes,

“Until now I always felt a stranger in this town, and that I’d no concern with you people. But now that I’ve seen what I’ve seen, I know that I belong here whether I want it or not. This business is everybody’s business.” (pp. 209-210)

He has been moved from the position of the outsider to one who is part of the others. He has come to see their communality.

Cottard, on the other hand, was an outsider. He was always fearful that the authorities would find out about his past and come to arrest him. He is a smuggler and who knows what else. He is an outsider, in fear. In some way, he seems to have rejoiced in the plague, because everyone, he thought, had become fearful of being caught, just like himself. His was not a solidarity of being together, but a feeling of a share commonness of being pursued. What a contrast with Rambert.

In the midst of the corona virus, who are we like? Rambert or Cottard?

Do we share the conviction that moves Dr. Bernard Rieux who oversees much of the work of resisting the plague? He tells Tarrou that, though he became more modest in his hopes for his work, “Only, I’ve never managed to get used to seeing people die.” Later the doctor tells Father Paneloux, “I refuse to love a scheme of things in which children are put to torture.” (p. 218)

Do we see, as Tarrou does, that the path to peace in the midst of the plague is “the path of sympathy”? (p. 254) I suspect, though, that he really means what we call “empathy.”

This book could stand as an examination of conscience in terms of how we respond to the plagues of our time.

Albert Camus wrote part of this novel in Le Chambon-sur-Lignon where he had gone in response to a bout of tuberculosis in 1942.

Le Chambon-sur-Lignon was a center of rescue for Jews, led by the Reformed Church pastor, André Trocmé and his wife Magda. I don’t know if Camus knew of this effort, but I’m sure he would approve. Pastor Trocmé would fit his description of a religious leader in tune with his people and the needs of the suffering. Camus’ Dr. Rieux remarks about the erudite Jesuit father Paneloux who seems to have given a justification for suffering: “He hasn’t come into contact with death….” But, Dr. Rieux notes “every country priest who visits his parishioners and has heard a man gasping for breath on his deathbed thinks as I do. He’d try to relieve human suffering before trying to point out its excellence.” (p. 126) To his credit, Paneloux later joins Rieux’s efforts and risks his life and health.

When I first read about Le Chambon-sur-Lignon, in Philipp Hallie’s Lest Innocent Blood Was Shed, I was fascinated by the efforts of Pastor Trocmé and his flock. But one incident still stirs me. His wife, Magda, heard a knock at the door of the vestry and opened the door to find a family of Jews at their doorstep. As I remember it, the family was a little reluctant to ask for shelter, but Magda, with all the naiveté of a simple believer, told them, “Come in. Come in.” For her it was natural and fundamentally human to welcome someone at the door. In  The Plague,  Grand agrees to stay with Cottard; “I can’t say that I really know him, but one’s got to help a neighbor, hasn’t one?” (p. 20)

That seems to me to be central to The Plague. One must be true to oneself and one’s humanity. As Dr. Rieux says to Rambert,

“It’s a matter of common decency. That’s an idea which may make some people smile, but the only means of fight a plague is — common decency.” (p, 163)

I cannot help recall the speech Camus made in 1948, a year or so after he finished The Plague, to a group of Dominicans at Latour-Maubourg. Fragments are found in Resistance, Rebellion, and Death, an amazing collection of Camus’s articles.

I close this blog with a few citations from that speech, citations that have inspired me since I first read them, during the Viet Nam War.

“Perhaps we cannot prevent the world from being a world in which children are tortured. But we can reduce the number of tortured children.” (p. 73)

“What the world expects of Christians is that Christians should speak out, loud and clear, and that they should voice their condemnation in such a way that never a doubt, never the slightest doubt, could rise in the heart of the simplest man. That they should get away from abstraction and confront the blood-stained face history has taken on today.” (p, 71)

“And what I know—which sometimes creates a deep longing in me— is that if Christians made up their minds to it, millions of voices–millions, I say—throughout the world would be added to the appeal of a handful of isolated individuals who, without any sort of affiliation, today intercede almost everywhere and ceaselessly for children and for [humans].” (p, 74)

How will we respond to the plagues around us? Not only the corona virus pandemic, but the plagues of violence, poverty, racism, and more.

When the pandemic is over, will be return to the “normal” beforehand. Or will we seek, together with all people of good will, to begin to forge a civilization of solidarity, where the least are welcomed and the Magnificat (Luke 1: 46-55) of the Mother of the Lord becomes a reality, a God who has “lifted up the lowly” and “filled the hungry with good things.”

Albert Camus, The Plague. Vintage International, 1991. (© 1948)

Albert Camus, Resistance, Rebellion, and Death. Vintage Books, 1974 (© 1960)