Challenges of Working for Change

What a wonderful experience it was to participate this past week in a three-day encounter of the Missionaries of the Holy Spirit. Forty people (fifteen priests and twenty-five lay people) from different places in Mexico met in Xochitepec to share experiences and to collectively discern how they could best journey with the poor in the construction of a “new world.” Of course, all of the participants are involved in “evangelization,” but the question was more about how to best “incarnate” that evangelization in a reality of impoverishment, marginalization, exclusion, and oppression.

Some of the participants in the encounter of the Missionaries of the Holy Spirit

The participants from Mexico City and Guadalajara and the states of Guerrero, Puebla, Tabasco, and Chiapas were thrilled to be in the mountains of Guerrero. The trip certainly involved sacrifices on their part, including getting wet several times as they travelled on the back of trucks to get from one place to another.

Leaving Xochitepec to drive to Ayutla de los Libres

Undoubtedly, the most “unique” part of the experience for the visitors was the visit to the village of Cuixinipa. The people there invited everyone to accompany them as they went to the top of the highest hill near their village to petition Saint Mark for a good rainy season. There, a lamb was slaughtered and buried, to “nourish” Saint Mark as he “worked” to enable the rains to come. Before the lamb was slaughtered, everyone was invited to breathe upon the lamb, so that their breath might give additional “spirit” to the lamb.

Father Pablo, from Tuxtla Gutiérrez, Chiapas, breathes upon
the lamb that will shortly be sacrificed

During the meeting back in Xochitepec after this religious ceremony, the most common word I heard from the outside participants was “sacred.” Most had never participated in an indigenous ritual like this, and they were impacted by the deep faith of the people and the many symbols used in their ritual. Several priests even mentioned that the expression “Lamb of God” used of Jesus in the Scriptures has now taken on new meaning for them.

This is the lamb that was sacrificed in the hope of producing a good rainy season

I enjoyed the many discussions that the participants in the encounter had concerning the present economic, political, cultural, and religious reality of Mexico, and concerning the different projects being carried out in different places. There was an awareness that the governing authorities in Mexico are adopting strategies and projects that make the rich richer and the poor poorer. There is almost an “assault” on the indigenous cultures—and maybe I should remove that word “almost”: the programs being implemented by the different levels of government force the people to “set aside” their traditional community-based ways of life in order to receive the “benefits” of the government-run programs. One expression heard often was “mechanisms of death.”

The village "pray-er" incenses the offerings; notice the many candles: fire is an
especially vibrant symbol of God's presence in this culture

Mission Mexico will continue striving to support efforts where cooperation, creativity, imagination, solidarity, justice, community, and other “gospel values” are promoted as the impoverished peoples struggle to find ways to work together toward the life that every human being deserves. Thanks to all those who support Mission Mexico. Your solidarity is making a difference here in the mountains of Mexico. God bless.

The new "mud tires" on the Mission Mexico truck give an extra sense of security
while driving on these muddy mountain roads in the rain

St. Mark Responds Quickly—The Rainy Season Is Here

Last week I wrote about St. Mark and the rainy season. Well, he didn't wait long to come through. Today is the sixth day in a row that it has rained here in La Montaña.

Driving back from San Pedro Viejo

That is great for the people who depend on their crops of corn and beans to stay alive all year. It’s not so great for people who have to drive the roads in the mountains. What were called “dirt roads” last week are now called “mud roads.” Add in fog and wind and cold (and dark, on occasion), and you have a not-so-nice driving experience at times.

Driving back from Yerba Santa

The bad thing about the mud is that most of the roads are quite inclined. So if you are going uphill, your tires are spinning—and if you can’t make it, it’s scary to have to back down in the mud; just like driving on ice, it’s easy to lose control of your vehicle if you touch the brakes. And driving downhill around a steep curve can be scary too.

Vehicles turning around rather than trying to go down a very steep section

And last week was just the week that Don Dagoberto, the bishop of the Diocese of Tlapa, asked me to take him to some of the farthest-away villages in the diocese. It was a two-day experience to go to and return from San Pedro Viejo (of the nasavi, also called mixteco, culture) and two days to go and return from Yerba Santa (of the mephaa, also called tlapaneco, culture). The impoverished indigenous peoples were thrilled that their pastor would go so far to be with them, but the visits did mean that I spent about ten hours a day driving (make that thirteen hours on Thursday).

People from Yerba Santa going to the entrance of the village to greet  Bishop Dagoberto

Don Dagoberto asked me to greet everyone associated with Mission Mexico and to thank you for your solidarity. He is a wonderful bishop, and the people here are thrilled that he is willing to spend so much time with them instead of just being in his office.

Bishop Dagoberto and Mike in Yerba Santa (he had more collars of flowers than me, but he removed them
to put on his Mass vestments—just in case you're wondering)

One thing about driving on mud roads is that if a vehicle gets stuck on the road ahead of you, you have no choice but to get out and try to assist the driver in moving on. So even today I still have a sore throat and bad cold from getting so cold and wet on several occasions this past week.

We had to push this truck at least ten times in different places

But that works both ways. I was coming around a turn on Thursday, and a truck was sliding down the road almost sideways. I had no choice but to pull over as close to the mountainside as I could. The truck didn’t hit me, but I ended up needing a push to get out of the ditch on that side of the road.

I guess I won't be able to claim a "never got stuck" rainy season this year

But at least I’m here to share this “adventure story” with you. The Nissan Frontier truck I drive is four-wheel-drive, and that helped immensely. I now know that the tires on it aren't really designed for mud; they’re like summer tires that aren't so good in the snow. I hate the thought of spending money on tires that have a better grip for mud (four tires will cost about 800 Canadian dollars), but I guess I have no choice if I want to do what I can to accompany the people in the villages during the next six or seven months. And if I want to keep myself and others in (and on the back of) the truck alive…

Some women at Mass in San Pedro Viejo
(the women tend to be on the right side of the church, the men on the left)

Thanks, everyone, for supporting Mission Mexico. Your support makes a difference here in many small ways and in many big ways. One small way is the French press coffee pot that I gave Father Juan Molina the other day. I will close with living proof that he received it. He too sends thanks to Mission Mexico. God bless all of you. Happy Mother’s Day to all moms.

Father Juan with his first cup of coffee from his new coffee pot—thank you, Mission Mexico

St. Mark and the Rainy Season

God will provide rain for the seeds you sow.

The grain that grows will be abundant.

Your cattle will range far and wide.

Oblivious to war and earth-quake,

the oxen and donkeys you use for hauling and plowing

will be fed well near running brooks

that flow freely from mountains and hills.

                                                                        Isaiah 30:23–25 (the Message)

Rain. That’s what’s on people’s minds nowadays. The dividing line between life and death here is always a slim one, and the big difference-maker is often rain.

 

Praying for rain in Xochitepec

The hope is that the rainy season will start any day now. The “usual” rainy season lasts from May to October. And perhaps because the feast day of St. Mark the Evangelist is the last “major” feast day before the beginning of May, Saint Mark is associated in the indigenous cultures here with the rainy season.

 

These women know what a bad rainy season can mean

However, it’s difficult to determine just who St. Mark is in the minds and hearts of the people. Consider the photo below, which I took last week in the church of Xochitepec. Notice the three stone images. The large figure in the middle is St. Mark the Evangelist. The figure on the left is that of a lion—the usual symbol for Mark the Evangelist. The figure on the right is St. Mark—the St. Mark who determines the fate of the rainy season.

 

A lion, St. Mark the Evangelist, and St. Mark "of the Rain"

Very few people here would be able to tell you what an “evangelist” is. But they all know who St. Mark “the rain-maker” is. And the prayers directed toward him don’t ask him to “intercede” with God so that the people might receive the life-giving rain; the prayers ask St. Mark to provide the rain. I daresay that if someone stole the stone figure of St. Mark the Evangelist, village life would continue on tranquilly. But if someone stole the stone figure representing the St. Mark associated with rain, village life would be totally traumatized.

 

This is the Saint Mark associated with the rainy season

I love going to Xochitepec mostly because of the great parish priest, Father Juan Molina, MSpS—(his companions Hector and Gustavo are incredible guys too). Those initials after Juan’s name refer to his religious congregation: the Missionaries of the Holy Spirit. Juan is a incredible man who has lived in Rome and other “important places.”  But here he is now, in his late sixties and “lost” in the mountains of Mexico in the most isolated, hardest-to-get-to part of La Montaña. Several priests and seminarians have told me that Juan is their model of “how a good priest should be”—and the people of Xochitepec and the other 28 villages of the parish would agree. It’s such a blessing to be able to visit Juan, see him in action, and dialogue with him.

 

Father Juan Molina, MSpS, and Valentina

Father Juan on his way to visit a village

The Missionaries of the Holy Spirit offer a volunteer program for Mexican youth who want to be part of an “insertion experience” among the poor. This year there are four such persons living in Xochitepec with Juan, Hector, and Gustavo; they are Luisa, Beto, Jose Luis, and Pollo. (“Pollo” means “Chicken,” and he refuses to tell anyone what his real name is.)

Talking with Luisa, Jose Luis, Pollo, and Beto (I'm the old guy)

Last week I asked Luisa, Beto, Jose Luis, and Pollo what the best part of their experience in Xochitepec has been (they've been there since October). Almost at the same time, they all responded, “The children.” They started telling anecdotes about the simplicity, the sincerity, the generosity, the smiles of the children.

 

Children—it doesn't take much to have fun

When I asked about the worst part of their experience, there was a bit of a pause and then several answers—but all similar—were spoken: “Powerlessness.” “Hopelessness.” “Helplessness.” “Rage.” They have seen so many situations of need—hunger, sickness, suffering, needless death, lack of opportunity—that they feel overwhelmed (and saddened and angered) by it all. They try to do what they can, but it seems like so little in comparison to the misery that is so abundant in La Montaña. But all four agreed that the opportunity to live with these impoverished people and with the Missionaries of the Holy Spirit has been the best experience of their lives.

 

A little girl on her way to the future; what might it hold?

So the struggle will go on. Allow me to end with an anecdote. The parish priest, Juan Molina, loves coffee; he admits that he drinks too much of it. He used to have a French press coffee maker that he loved. Unfortunately, the glass container broke several months ago while being washed. I was in the city of Cuernavaca the other day and was able to buy him a new French press coffee maker. Now I’m looking forward to surprising him with his new gift. I think he deserves it. Would you agree with me? I hope so, because I will be telling him that the coffee maker is a gift to him (and his community) from his friends in Canada who support Mission Mexico. Thanks for that support, everyone. God bless.

That's my hand in the ceremony for petitioning rain from St. Mark