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Commentary

By Liz Quirin

Finding Faith in Guatemala - Mine and Theirs

I arrived at the parish after the Mass had started and was almost literally thrown out of the truck by the priest who had to be someplace else “15 minutes ago.” He not only had to take care of his own parish, but as vicar general, he was responsible for the diocese since the previous bishop had been named to another diocese and no new bishop had been appointed. This was the Petén in northern Guatemala, and life in the church was continuing.

After the Mass, I climbed aboard a motor scooter, behind the priest who had just finished the liturgy and needed to “motor” to a parish center for another Mass with parents, sponsors and young people who would be confirmed in the coming weeks. About 350 people crowded into a space suitable for 200. It was more than “cozy,” and those of us who couldn’t find a seat managed to settle into a “standing room only” spot near the altar. Again, this was Guatemala, and no matter how little space you could occupy, the liturgy was celebrated enthusiastically with many songs of praise and thanksgiving.

Later that same day, I met the vicar general and climbed back into his truck to go to a village for what I later discovered was a combination confirmation and wedding in what my father would probably call a “lean-to” that was decorated for both confirmation and the bride and groom.

We made frequent stops on our “off-road” ride to the chapel to pick up the faithful who hopped into the back of the truck. This time, our excursion — the confessions, paper work, liturgy, the photos and the congratulations after confirmation and wedding — lasted about three hours. Again, seating was limited, and when it began to rain, the folks under the trees moved into the chapel where it was somewhat — but not entirely — dryer. Both bride and groom wiped away tears as they accepted congratulations from the congregation.

After a bone-rattling ride back to the city and a tuk-tuk ride to the hotel, the day ended. When all of the travelers on this trip of friendship between Americans and Guatemalans from sister parishes met and shared their adventures, we returned home to share our experiences with friends and families. The hospitality each of us experienced in every one of the parishes amazed and humbled all of us.

Those who appear to have so little shared so much of their faith and their lives with those of us who seem to have so much. We all need to take a break from our hectic schedules, our lives full of appointments and busyness to remind ourselves of what is important and meaningful. This was, in short, my kind of trip. “Had a wonderful time. Wish you could have been there too.”