Then Jesus said to
his disciples:
“If any want to
become my followers,
let them deny
themselves
and take up their
cross and follow me.”
Matthew
16:24 (NRSV)
These
lines from next Sunday’s gospel (August 31) came to me yesterday morning as I left
Don Hipólito’s house and accompanied him in the early morning as he walked—if
one could call his slow, painful gait “walking”—to the same small church that
he has walked to almost every morning for the past seventy years.
 |
| Hipólito walking to the church in San Marcos yesterday morning |
Why was
he going there? Because in 1944, when he was twenty-two years old, he was
chosen to be the village “cantor” in San Marcos. Literally, “cantor” means
“singer,” but Hipólito’s responsibilities involve a lot more than singing. In
an isolated village where the parish priest might show up three or four times a
year, he is the community’s religious representative before God.
 |
| Early-morning view from the doorway to the one-room house of Hipólito and Simona |
What
does that mean? Hipólito prays for the sick; he intercedes for a good rainy
season; he looks after the saints in the parish church; he officiates as people
are married or buried (these marriages may not be “sacramental” in the eyes of
the Catholic Church, but they are definitely considered binding and are
certainly “sacred” in the eyes of the villagers).
 |
| Some of the saints in the church of San Marcos |
And why
the painful gait yesterday morning? Because ninety-two-year-old Hipólito had
been walking home—barefoot—in the dark the week before, and he had stepped on a
piece of broken glass. He had made his own poultice of plants and was hopeful
that this remedy would soon work, but so far, it didn’t seem to be having much
effect.
 |
| Hipólito's foot yesterday morning. Ouch! |
It was
an honour to accompany Hipólito as he greeted (in Latin and in his native na
savi language) each of the saints in the church. The “greeting” lasted over an
hour and involved candles, flowers, incense, prayers, and song. Hipólito
apologized for singing out of tune, but he said that he just hasn’t been able
to recover the good voice that he had before he lost two of his front teeth.
 |
| Hipólito (accompanied by his future replacement?) greeting the saints |
Staying
overnight at Hipólito’s house was also a great experience. He and his wife,
Simona, used to live high on the hill overlooking the village, but since their
house was severely damaged last year, they now live at the lower end of the
village. They have a dirt floor, no running water, no bathroom (not even
outside), no table, no bed. But they do have hearts that surely reflect Jesus’
own, and they share the best of what they have and who they are. It was easy to
think that they truly live Jesus’ invitation to “deny themselves and to take up
their crosses and follow me.”
 |
| Hipólito and Simona enjoying breakfast |
Their
reality has touched other lives too. I had gone to San Marcos on Wednesday with
Edith and Oscar, for a meeting of the twenty families or so whose houses had
been destroyed or badly damaged during heavy rains, landslides, and earthquakes
in September of last year. Edith is Hipólito’s granddaughter, and she has been
spearheading an effort to raise funds in Mexico City to assist these families
in rebuilding their homes and their lives. Oscar is a young man from
Switzerland who is working among the poor in Guatemala, and he visits Edith
several times a year. Is it love? Of course it is!
 |
| Edith helping Oscar to get ready for the day |
One of
the main fundraisers in Mexico City is the purchase of post cards depicting the
lives of the people in San Marcos. When disaster struck the area last
September, a number of journalists and photographers went to San Marcos to
document the lives of the people. Many couldn’t believe their eyes; these Mexico
City Mexicans had no idea that so many of their own people lived in such
marginalization in the twenty-first century.
 |
| My supper on Wednesday night (Simona stirred the chile sauce into the atole with her fingers) |
Edith helped to coordinate a
solidarity effort by many of these photographers: they donated their best
photographs; postcards were made; these were (and are) offered for sale to the
public. Besides the financial assistance for the people of San Marcos, the
photographers want to raise awareness that there is still a lot of work to be
done to create a Mexico for all Mexicans.
 |
| Hipólito and Simona's new (wooden) house; the one on the right belongs to a neighbour |
PS:
Hipólito reminded me of the words from Sunday’s gospel. His wife, Simona,
reminded me of the cover of the tabernacle in the chapel of the Tonantzin
Guadalupe Diocesan Seminary where I live here in Tlapa. Am I the only one who sees a
similarity in the following two photos (and is tempted to draw a halo around
Simona’s head)?
Have a great weekend, all. God bless. Thanks
for supporting Mission Mexico.
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