"Come, my brothers, let us begin!"

My first month as a missionary in Honduras has been full of "firsts." I think I've seen or done something new every single day that I've been here! Last Friday was no different. For the first time, I got the chance to experience a truly unique Franciscan tradition: the Transitus of St. Francis, a solemn celebration of his life and his transitus (passage) from this life to the next.

The evening began, of course, with dinner at the friary. Practically the whole neighborhood had turned out for this special event, and much to my surprise, I recognized so many faces that it took me a while to greet everyone that I knew. What a beautiful part of Catholic culture - that our celebrations almost always include a communal meal! As a Eucharistic people, we recognize that sharing a meal is a powerful expression of our love for one another, that when we gather to "break bread," we remember how Christ has made us one Body in Him.

After dinner we walked along a candle-lit path through the cloisters of the friary, following Fr. Juan Antonio, who was carrying a crucifix, and we sang:

Bendiga alma mía al Señor, y bendice su santo nombre.
Bendiga alma mía al Señor; Él me rescata de la muerte.

(Bless the Lord, O my soul, and bless His holy name.
Bless the Lord, O my soul, for He rescues me from death.)

The procession ended in the chapel, and once everyone took their seats, quite a few people were left standing near the doors. At the front of the chapel, surrounded by dozens of candles, lay a crude wooden coffin, and inside it, the "body of St. Francis" (a stuffed habit, laid out as if for a funeral, with lit candles at its feet). After singing a song of praise, we listened as one by one, the friars recounted in dramatic fashion stories about the life and death of their father, Francis. What a gift it was to see how the children present laughed and listened attentively to so many of the stories, wide-eyed in amazement. Who knew that St. Francis was once a child like them, one who threw wild parties for his friends and had dreams of growing up to be a famous soldier?

The narratives, of course, took on a more somber tone when the time came to speak of Francis' stigmata, of the way he wore himself out in service of the poor, and finally of his passage into eternal life. Dr. Carlos, a friend of our community who works at San Benito (the friars' hospital), commemorated the saint's death by singing the hymn that Francis himself sang as he was dying. While by this time some of the children in the chapel were struggling to stay awake, most of the crowd seemed completely taken in by the drama of the moment - we were listening to the last prayer of a dying man as though we were truly present at his bedside, and in those few minutes, we were able to glimpse not Francis the saint but Francis the man: a man of profound humility, who went before his Creator in prayer knowing that even up until the moment of his death, he was only a weak soul in need of a Savior.

The narrative having been thus concluded, the friars knelt around Francis' coffin and chanted a beautiful hymn to our Lady, "Ultima in Mortis Hora," asking her to pray for us in our last hour and to obtain for us a holy death. When they were finished, we left the chapel in prayerful silence, remembering St. Francis' final exhortation to his followers:

"Come, my brothers, let us begin, for up until now we have done little or nothing."

St. Francis, pray for us - pray that we might learn to be poor and humble servants, to love our brothers and sisters in community as you loved your own, and to live with the Cross of our Lord always before our eyes. Amen.

Everything I am...

Throughout college, praising God through music was a powerful form of prayer for me. Here in Honduras, I am able to “sing a new song to the Lord,” in a new language! Before leaving, I thought it would be difficult to give up my favorite praise and worship songs in English, but as usual, I was focusing more on what I would lose than on what I would gain. The words to one of these new songs have been especially significant for me, as a new missionary in our community: “Todo lo que soy, todo lo que tengo, todo lo que quiero, todo lo que sueño, a ti Señor Jesús, te entrego.” (Everything I am, everything I have, everything I want, everything I dream, to you Lord Jesus, I surrender).

Some days during the past 3 weeks I have prayed these words joyfully, thanking God for the opportunity to really wake up each day and spend myself completely for Him. Some days I pray them with exasperation, feeling poor and useless. But the words of this song keep causing me to realize that our God longs to be our Provider; in fact, His heart burns for it! But He allows us the freedom to allow Him in, and we can only do that when we don’t leave our options open: Christ is our only option! And He is everything.

This was made clear to me during last week’s mission to the mountain town of Guajiquiro and its surrounding villages. The night before we left, we were blessed with an extended night of prayer and praise before the Blessed Sacrament, asking God to pour forth His Holy Spirit upon us again as He did at Pentecost. And send us forth He did, to the unknown, like the branches from His vine. All we had to bring to the villagers was Christ, literally—in His sacraments (Fr. Juan Diego, cfr was with my team).

Each night in the village we had a holy hour with the villagers. On the last night I was sitting in the back row of the chapel, sharing my candle and song sheet with Luis Alfredo, a 7-year-old who had been joining us all week. As we sat and shared Christ’s light, my fellow missioner Juan Carlos began the song… “Todo lo que soy, todo lo que tengo…” I looked up at Christ, humbly gazing at us from the altar, thanking Him for what He had done that week with our willingness to serve Him through our simplicity, poverty, and faith that He was at work. Lord, let us be living monstrances, displaying your love to everyone we encounter. When all we have is You, we have more than enough.

Stuck in Folsom Prison...

Each of us has a heart for a different need in the world, its beautiful how God has created each of us with different gifts and desires. Our ministries and projects here are varied because we are varied. And what is beautiful, although sometimes challenging, is that we have the freedom to discern what God is calling us to, what is prudent, and what it is that we personally have to offer. Frederick Buechner described it beautifully when he said, "The place that God calls us is that place where the world's deep hunger and our deep desire meet."

In this update we wanted to share with you a new ministry we've begun due to the open heart of one of our missioners. Always at the heart of all we do is love, especially for those most in need: the poor, the broken, the abused, the sick and...the imprisoned. Tracy had been feeling a very strong call to serve vulnerable men, almost to the point of looking for another mission or ministry, she had been thinking about homeless ministry, but God had another plan for her. Erika, a friend of the Missioners (and sister of Etelvina) expressed interest in visiting the prison here in Comayagua, but she hadn't yet found the path by which to do so. When Tracy heard about the opportunity she knew it was God speaking to her desire. She (along with a group) has been going faithfully once a week to visit and pray with the men there. This is her reflection on her experiences so far:

“Don’t judge another squaw until you’ve walked a mile in her moccasins”...... they’re not quite squaws and it’s more flip flops than moccasins but anyway….the guys inside the depressing edifice that is Comayagua’s local prison are doing time for an interesting variety of crimes: murder, rape, armed robbery, kidnapping….to name but a few. I try not to dwell too much on the reasons for their incarceration, or to judge, remembering the often pitiful circumstances and poor example in these lives, not to mention the powerful enemy we are all battling. I try to focus more on the truth that each of them is a soul created by a loving Father, for love, and for an eternity spent in a peaceful place very far removed from where they are right now.

Their souls, like ours, are thirsting for God, and in an environment where drugs and prostitutes are readily available, the prison guards busy themselves lounging around chatting (when not openly watching pornographic films) and rosary beads joyfully handed out by naïve missionaries become currency for indulging vices……the thirst is that much more intense. I thank God for the many good men I have encountered in the prison who are striving in the midst of such darkness to lead others to conversion and holiness through daily scripture study, prayer and good example.

I am blessed to be a witness to our wonderful Lord, who paid the price for all our sins, in such a crazy place, and implore your intercession for this new ministry we are undertaking. Please pray that God might use us as His instruments to help set the captives free from the sin, fear, doubt, despair and false masculinity that poisons the hearts of His poor children and keeps them from His tender care.

St Dismis, Patron Saint of Prisoners, pray for us.

-Tracy McGee, Scotland

Mountains and Teeth

The Friars host 6 Medical Brigaides a year in their hospital San Benito. A medical team of doctors, dentists, nurses, surgeons etc is brought in for a week to provide surgeries and medical care to the poorest of the poor. Each brigade brings new faces, new cases, and new challenges. We as Missioners support the Brigades by preparing food for the patients and their families, helping prepare patients for surgery, translating, and visiting with the patients after their surgeries. Two brigades ago we were finally able to realize a hope we've had for quite a while to bring dental care to the mountains. There are several priests with whom we work that had been asking for dentists for quite some time. God definately provided because an American dentist with years of experience working in the mountains of Central America had been consistently arriving with the brigaides to work out of San Benito's clinic but had at the same time been expressing interest in returning to work in the mountains. With the help of a portable dental unit he is able to go anywhere there is electricity, light, and water to work, he can work then even, as he says, "on somebody's front porch." So he and three of us Missioners (to help assist and do intake, translate) set off for a trial day. We drove the three hours into the mountains of San Luis, set up all the equipment and attended to 10-12 children, basically just doing extraction dentristy. It was my first experience assisting and I learned very quickly it takes patience, a sense of humor, and a strong stomach...sucking blood and spit and being handed extracted teeth is not for the faint of heart. It went very well and Father Balthazar was really excited to finally be able to offer the service to his people.
So...this last brigaide we set out again for three days working in two different villages of Father's this time. We worked again in San Luis but then traveled for the day to the even more remote village of San Rafael. Its really incredible the need in the mountains. A combination of poor education, lack of supplies and lack of dentists makes for some pretty unhealthy mouths. It was difficult to see at times the results years of lack of care can produce. We worked on a young girl who was only 12 years old, already her four front teeth were false and we removed three more permanent teeth, if we had had time we could have removed more. Many many people even at a young age wear dentures. We took 7 teeth out of one woman, finishing off her upper teeth. The majority of the people we saw had seen a dentist maybe once or twice before, some never. It is really convicting as always to experience the lives of the poor first hand, to see what becomes normalcy when living without. In many ways their lives are more simple and more beautiful but we cannot lapse into idealizing the situation. There lives are also very hard and burdened; there is a great amount of suffering and struggle that exists that we have no concept of. We must be honest and real about our responsibility to love them and serve them. Our hope is to continue to return to these aldeas and to not only treat the emergencies but work on prevention and education, to improve their quality of life and quality of care. Hopefully they will experience the love of Christ in us in this humble opportunity to care for them, as always we returned more changed and affected by our encounter with the poor than they ever will be by us. We hope to return in June to the mountains, this time making two different trips and hopefully bringing along a Hygienist for more cleaning and prevention work...as always keep us and the poor in your prayers.