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.

Que viva la virgen campesina - Suyapa

Hoy Honduras celebra a su patrona, María, bajo el título de la Virgen de Suyapa. La imagen de la virgen de Suyapap fue encontrada en 1747 por dos campesinos - una estatua de aproximadamente 2.5 pulgadas (6.5 cm).

Hace tres años vi por primera vez una foto de la estatua sin vestido. María es un poco fea, y aparentemente no blanca. Me gusta mucho la imagen.

Me han desanimado un poco las imágenes de la Virgen de Suyapa, a menudo de diez a veinte veces más grandes que la original, adornadas con un hermoso vestido galán. 

María ha sido secuestrada. 

No como las dos veces que robaron la imagen: una vez fue encontrada en el baño de hombres en un restaurante en Tegucigalpa. 

No, ella se ha sido robada de su identidad; ya no es una campesina pobre.

Además, es la patrona de las fuerzas armadas hondureñas, su “capitana”. Y la misa del festival en la basílica de Tegucigalpa a menudo se ha convertido en un festival de amor para el gobierno, con el presidente y otros en los primeros bancos. 

Pero ella es la María que dijo "sí" a la improbable propuesta de convertirse en madre de Dios.

Ella es la María que dio a luz a su hijo y lo acostó en un pesebre.

Ella es la María que estuvo al pie de la Cruz de su hijo.

Ella es la María que, al enterarse de que su pariente Isabel estaba embarazada, la visitó, mientras ella misma se encontraba en los primeros meses de embarazo.

Ella es la María que, reflejando las palabras de Ana en 1 Samuel, cantó un canto revolucionario de alabanza a Dios que derriba a los soberbios, despide a los ricos vacíos, derriba a los poderosos de sus tronos.

Ella es la María que lleva a un Dios que ensalza a los humildes, llena a los hambrientos, despide a los ricos con las manos vacías. 

Me pregunto si su cántico Magnificat será prohibido en Honduras por ser tan revolucionario.

Sin embargo, amo a la Virgencita de Suyapa.

Esta María, la virgen pequeñita de Suyapa, campesina un poco fea, morena, es la sierva del Señor que lleva a Dios hecho carne y me muestra el Dios verdadero. 

Esta María, la virgen pequeñita de Suyapa, campesina un poco fea, morena, es la sierva del Señor que lleva a Dios hecho carne y me muestra cómo es Dios realmente. 

Ella es la Virgen cuya estatua fue encontrada cuando el campesino Alejandro Colindres, durmiendo en el campo, sintió un dolor agudo en la espalda, por tratar de dormir donde fue la imagen. ¡Que todavía sea un dolor agudo, una espina, en la espalda de todos los que oprimen a los pobres, que confían en el poder y la riqueza, que no se dan cuenta de que son siervos del Señor y a su pueblo! 

Gracias, Virgen de Suyapa. Ruega por nosotros. Ruega por Honduras. 

Virgen, fea y revolucionaria, te amo. Ayúdanos y a todo Honduras a convertirnos.

---

Una traducción (por Google, pero corregida) de un blog en inglés de 2018.

The year at Dulce Nombre de Maria: challenges and signs of hope.

I began to write this post on January 28, the feast of St. Thomas Aquinas to thank the parish of St. Thomas Aquinas in Ames, Iowa, for their continued support of our parish, Dulce Nombre de María. The day before our pastor had told me to send them his profound thanks for all that they have shared with us. This post is an expanded version, with photos, of a letter I sent to St. Thomas Aquinas parish.

On the morning of January 28, at 7:05 am, I got a phone call from a communion minister in a nearby village. He greeted me on the feast of St. Thomas Aquinas and expressed his gratitude for STA’s support of the parish. He was going to the exposition of the Blessed Sacrament in the church in his village (which they do every Thursday for several hours) and told me that they would be praying for St. Thomas Aquinas Church during the day. I was moved by his call which showed me how much the people here appreciate the solidarity of St. Thomas.

That afternoon I went out to Mass in a remote village, getting there with no trouble. During the Mass, Padre German prayed for St. Thomas. Mass started late and rains began. The trip back home was hazardous; there were a few slippery hills where I wondered if I would get out. But I got home with no scrapes on me or the new truck; going over this narrow road by a landslide was one of the easier parts of the trip.

Today I want to take remembering the feast of St. Thomas Aquinas as an opportunity to review the past year. 

It has been a difficult year throughout the world and especially here. Honduras has been plagued in recent years by poverty, corruption, and a broken infrastructure, especially in the areas of health and education.

Then the pandemic hit. Honduras went on almost complete lockdown, which actually may have helped prevent the spread of the virus. But the medical system was overwhelmed and the efforts to bring in temporary hospitals and treatment equipment have been plagued by corruption and inefficiency.

For me, an introvert, this has been a time for reading, praying, and almost a retreat. I have also taken advantage of several on-line education programs, including a course on Intrafamiliar Abuse offered by CEPROME, which works on abuse prevention, especially in the church. CEPROME also provided a virtual study week on abuse for all the clergy of Honduras. Thank God for a fairly decent internet connection.

I also used the time for a lot of reading and a fair amount of baking bread. 

I am also blessed because a friend here in Plan Grande has a tomato project and even delivers the beef-steak sized tomatoes. This makes cooking and shopping much easier.

Our parish has not suffered from COVID-19 as much as the major metropolitan areas. There have been cases in several of the municipal centers and some villages – with several deaths. But the pandemic has disrupted life – and made life more difficult for many of the poorest.

During the pandemic, the pastor and I helped one municipality distribute supplies to the needy on two occasions. We went along to help assure that the aid was distributed to those most in need and was not used for political purposes (which is a great danger here, especially since elections are being held this year.)

In regard to pastoral work, we have tried to minister to the parish within the limits of the restrictions as well as in light of the need to adhere to health safeguards.

The pastor and a seminarian (ordained a deacon in December) went around to a number of places. I restricted my travels a bit more (now that I’m 73 years old), but found myself involved in pre-marriage interviews, baptisms, funerals, and more. I have presided at a good number of funerals, five here in Plan Grande. I also did pre-marriage interviews and helped in the baptismal preparation of three persons who were going to be married. There also have been a number of baptisms, not only of children but also of several adults preparing for baptism.

When the bishops conference released guidelines for public worship, I presided at Sunday morning Celebrations of the Word with Communion in the church here in Plan Grande and went out a bit more, though I adhered to travel restrictions which limited use of vehicles to certain days. When I got a safe-conduct pass, I went out a bit more and have visited a number of villages for Sunday morning celebrations.

I haven't traveled much outside of the department of Copán where I live, but the pastor and I did go to the ordination of three transitional deacons fore our diocese. 

Deacon Fernando's ordination in Dulce Nombre

Enroute to one ordination in Santa Bárbara we saw how Hurricane Iota devastated parts of that department, especially along the river Ulua.

In the midst of this, with the help of donations from St. Thomas as well as fund-raising efforts of parishioners, the parish was able to avoid laying off any of its few employees, notably the secretary and cooks. The parish was also able to continue the rehabilitation of the church in Dulce Nombre, mostly from donations of parishioners and the fund-raising efforts of some women in Dulce Nombre, selling pupusas, pasteles, and other food.

Thanks to a few other independent donations, the parish was also able to contract an artist to paint an impressive mural in the apse of the church. He will begin painting murals in the side chapels this month. 

This month the parish will start a major effort to prepare spaces in the parish center in Dulce Nombre for parish-wide meetings for formation of parish leaders, thanks to a very generous donation in the past.

The St. Thomas Aquinas parish support of the distance learning education program of Maestro en Casa has enabled many junior high and high school students to study, even during the pandemic. I remember visiting a home while we distributed provision and seeing a young man working on his homework. This year the scholarships will help about 160 young people to continue their education.

In the midst of all this, we had to attend to the parish coffee fields. We have had volunteers come out and do pruning and weeding. We have had several days when parishioners came out to harvest the coffee. A few weeks ago, more than 160 came out on a Monday and 60 more the next day and harvested more than 800 five gallon containers of coffee beans. 

As if the pandemic wasn’t enough, Honduras was buffeted by two hurricanes in October and November. Much of the devastation, especially from the first hurricane, affected the north coast, especially around the industrial center of the country in San Pedro Sula.

The parish was also affected somewhat by the first hurricane, Eta. Yet we experienced the brutal force of the second hurricane, Iota, with landslides, collapse of soils, and fallen trees. The ground was already saturated because of more rain than usual this year. The heavy rains and winds led to the isolation of many villages because of impassible roads and fallen bridges, some for almost two weeks. The rains, fallen trees, and mudslides also contributed to the breakdown of water systems in some areas as well as lack of access to electricity. Some roads are still hazardous when it rains.

But the worst damages from Hurricane Iota were to houses in several villages of the parish, as well as to the loss of farmland and coffee fields. More than 180 families in the parish were affected. Some have had to abandon their homes; others are living in hazardous areas where major storms could provoke more  landslides and destruction of houses.

At least one village will probably need to be relocated and some people in other areas will have to move to more secure places in or near their villages.

some of the destruction in San Marcos Pavas

Yet in the midst of this we have seen many persons respond to the needs of others, even though they are themselves poor. People have collected food stuffs, shared beans and corn with the parish to distribute, and even gone out to take provisions and clothing to villages. Migrants from here in the US and Spain have sent money to help respond to the needs of those affected by the hurricanes. We have also received aid from other parts of the diocese and even from some people in Tegucigalpa.

This coming year presents us with many challenges. How will we safely resume formation of pastoral workers in the villages? How will we help restructure the local faith communities, including a revival of base communities? How will we help communities that need to rebuild? How will we accompany the people as they deal with loss of houses and farmland, with seriously damaged water systems, with roads in terrible condition? How will we be present in the major health crisis of COVID-19, with hospitals overwhelmed.? How can we help assure that the vaccines, when they arrive, are distributed to those most in need and not used by politicians to garner votes in this year’s elections? How will we serve those people who are so desperate that they are thinking of migrating? 

We have received some financial assistance to help people rebuild, some from St. Thomas and some from my personal friends. 

We are doing some planning to work on restructuring the base communities in the parish as well as the work of the catechists. This coming week I’ll begin visiting catechists in the ten rural sectors of the parish.

We have work to do. But with the help of God, of the members of the parish, and of the generous friends of the parish, especially the parish of St. Thomas Aquinas in Ames, Iowa, we are encouraged in our efforts.

This year we also have the help of a seminarian, Melvin, in his year of pastoral practice as well as the transitional deacon, Fernando, for at least a few months - if not more.

On behalf of the parish, I want thank all whose who support us. We are grateful and I want to assure you that we pray for you.

May God continue to bless you. Let us pray for each other and support each other in loving solidarity.

Holocaust Remembrance Day

My life has been shaped by my high school encounter with the reality of the Holocaust.

I don’t know when I first learned about the Holocaust but during high school I began to be concerned about this horror. At that time I was in a Franciscan minor seminary and so one of my concerns was the apparent failure of the Catholic Church to respond to the rise of Nazism and the Holocaust

There was Rolf Hochhuth’s 1963 play, The Deputy. Some consider it to be overstated and a piece of propaganda against Pope Pius XII, but it raises the question of why the church was so hesitant to speak openly.

I also ran across Gordan Zahn’s 1962 study, German Catholics and Hitler’s Wars: A Study in Social Control Though Zahn’s interest was mainly in the failure of most of the German bishops to respond to Hitler’s wars, it also brings to the fore the failure of the church to speak out.

Two years later, Gordon Zahn published In Solitary Witness: The Life and Death of Franz Jägerstätter, his account of the life of an Austrian who refused to serve in Hitler’s army. He ran across the story when he was researching his book on war and German Catholics and proceeded to make known the life and writings of this farmer who discerned the evil of Nazism and sacrificed his life for his convictions. He was subsequently beatified by the Catholic Church and recently a movie was released, A Hidden Life, which I heartily recommend.

About this time, I came across the speech that Albert Camus gave at a Dominican monastery in 1948. It put into words my concerns – not just about the Holocaust but also about the Vietnam War which was raging in the mid and late 1960s.

“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 [person]. That they should get away from abstraction and confront the blood-stained face history has taken on today.”

Camus concluded his remarks with these prophetic words:

“…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 [human beings].”

In 1973, I took an extended vacation to Europe, traveling mostly by bicycle and train. I stopped in Munich, in part for the beer, but also I wanted to visit Dachau, the concentration camp. It was not a death camp but many died here and their bodies were cremated. I walked in silence around the camp, paused at the crematory (where I sensed the smell of death), and prayed at the chapel there. As I returned to Munich on a train, I noted that this place of mass death and detention was so close to a major city. How could the people in the nearby town not notice the smell of death and how could the city of Munich not note the presence of this center of evil.

Crematoria at Dachau

Remembering the holocaust and other crimes of mass destruction of the twentieth century as well as the massive civilian deaths in war and concentration camps throughout the world, I have been moved to be with those who suffer and to speak up with them. In some way, it opened me to come to Honduras. 

But it opened me to something more.

A few years ago, the bishop asked me to consider the permanent diaconate. As is my custom, I began to look for information. The first article I came across, by William Ditewig, mentioned that priests in Dachau discussed the permanent diaconate. They asked why the church didn’t respond to the evil of Nazism and wondered whether the clergy was too distant from the realities around them. They thought that it might be good to have people involved in the world as members of the clergy to keep the church closer to the reality people experience. I wrote about this in a blog post a few months before I was ordained. I also wrote ab out this last year in another blogpost.

Last year, I had planned to go to an international deacons’ conference in Germany and had planned to spend a day at Dachau. That, of course, was cancelled due to the outbreak of the Corona-19 virus. I still have hopes to one day visit that seedbed of the contemporary diaconate.

For me, this has meant that for me the diaconate has a strong prophetic dimension.

We are called to announce the Reign of God, that God has come near and is present among us. But that also means that we help people identify the evils – both personal and institutional – around us. We are not just to wash the wounds of those who suffer but we are called to speak up about what has brought about this suffering and death.

This means that we may have to take risks of offending others. But silence opens the way for evil to flourish. It might also mean that we stand with those who suffer. 

I know many deacons stand at the side of the unborn, but how many of us stand with those who suffer from racist attacks? Many stand with the poor, offering them assistance, but how many of us raise questions about why they suffer

For this reason, I have a rather peculiar idea of what it means to be a deacon. 

The deacon must stand at the side of the people in need – all of them, most of all the impoverished. I have my concerns with any deacon who does not get his hands dirty at the side of the poor and who is not willing to speak up with them (and for them). 

We should not do this from the outside, but from within the world of the poor - living the "culture of encounter" that Pope Francis stressed. 

It’s a challenge that I don’t live up to – but God keeps calling me. 

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 Photo of crematoria at Dachau from Wikipedia.

Migrants, caravans, desperation

A new migrant caravan gathered yesterday and this morning in San Pedro Sula. They are hoping to pass the Honduran-Guatemalan border and proceed to Mexico and even to the US. 

Some have hopes that US policy will change with a new president. But I believe that many are leaving out of desperation. Reacting to this, I decided to write a few scattered thoughts on what may come. 

I expect there will be many who will flee in the coming months, some in caravans, others in small groups, or alone.

Honduras has been buffeted by the pandemic COVID-19. The economy has been severely affected, most of all the informal sector.

Then the hurricanes hit. Many communities on the coast have been inundated; people have lost all they had. The photos from places like La Lima, Cortes, near San Pedro, have been heart breaking. When I went to San Pedro Sula last month, my heart ached as I saw people living under bridges and ramps. 

In our area, people have lost homes and some crops have been devastated, mostly because of the landslides brought on by the rains, in areas that were already in peril.

Honduras has become a nightmare for many people. 

Poverty has been compounded; corruption has increased. People feel robbed of hope. 

All this came home to me about a week ago when I went to baptize in a rural community. 

After the Celebration of Baptism, I talked to a young man whom I knew. He had fled with his wife and child from the community where he lived when his home was destroyed by a landslide. We talked and he mentioned that he was thinking about trying to go to the US to find work. His family is living with a relative in another village and he sees no way to find the funds to get land for a safe place to build and to buy the supplies needed for a home. We talked and I told him that the parish is looking at ways to help people rebuild. We hope to have a small project.

These months in our area people are working in the coffee harvest. But in late February, when the harvest is mostly over, I expect that there will be more people who will leave. 

I’m hoping that we can do something significant that will offer alternatives to at least a few people. I’d like to start in one community where many people have been affected and which will probably need to be relocated. That will be a big project. But there are also some families, without resources, in other communities who will need to find land and rebuild. I’m beginning to speak with folks in those communities to see how much interest and support we can get in the communities. Our dream is not to build houses.

The dream is to build community, which means building houses but much more. Too many come in and give people things, creating dependence and stifling initiative. Our hope is to work in the communities, generating processes of working together.

I'll try to follow up on this.