Come Help Us Bury Our Dead

Early morning, the rector of Cathedral calls to ask us to go up in the hills and conduct a funeral. For the poor, there is no embalming and no waiting, and all the priests (most) are on vacation. No local leaders have been trained to handle spiritual emergencies. So we followed the two concerned neighbors who had come all the way to town to look for a priest. One winding kilometer after another, up and up, until we arrived at a little place called (no kidding) Tequila. Before arriving,we stopped at the widow's simple hut, and let them know there would be a funeral. They began loading the coffin in the back of a pickup.

The church is wonderfully situated on a hill, classical Baroque. And inside it is stuffed with fine old images of saints, the Trinity, (The Father and two others who look like Jesus), Saint James on his horse, too many of Mary to count. Dick got vested just in time to welcome the pickup carrying the coffin at the front of the church. Indigenous women, barefoot, in traditional garb, brought gifts of candles, flowers and little bags of food for the family. We gave them the best funeral we could, following the Rite for funeral sans Mass. Then, although the priests don't often do it, we went to the cemetery with them, D. blessed the grave, just a hole in the light red dirt that a crew of neighbors were hastily lining with bricks and mortar), hugged the family again, and reluctantly accepted a small donation from the same concerned neighbor. The sacristan assured us they customarily give the collection to whoever conducts the service. All those tiny coins speak eloquently of the Widow's mite, and are sacred in our eyes. Added up, these tiny coins amounted to $10.00 (US) a help with the gas.

I'm having a really hard time imagining how I would answer the Lord at Judgement, if He were to ask: "Why were so many of my sheep, My least brethren, left without a shepherd? Why were they forced to marry, and die, without a presence of My Church to comfort and strengthen them?"

Pray for the widow, Delfina, and her 4 children. No visible means of support.