Chalate

A few weeks back I took a weekend trip to the department of Chalatenango.  In addition to passing through Guarjila, the town where my good friend Dave did volunteer work while a student at Notre Dame, the highlight was spending time in and around the small town of Arcatao.

Arcatao

I arrived in Arcatao on a Saturday afternoon hoping to locate a Jesuit priest I had read about in my Lonely Planet guide.  The town has no official accommodations, so the only way to spend the night was to ask for a room in the church compound.  I was a little nervous after the last bus out of town departed and night started to fall, but Padre Miguel finally returned.


I expected Saturday to be an early night, but I ended up getting more than I bargained for.  Padre Miguel invited me, along with a group of young Jesuit seminarians, to attend the graduation party for Guadalupe, a young man who had just finished her studies at the UCA, the Jesuit University in San Salvador.  Guadalupe had received a scholarship through the church’s foundation on the condition that she returned to serve her community.  We enjoyed a terrific meal, dancing, and great conversation.

Ladies Night

All right, there are a couple guys getting into it...

Jesuit Semanarians (plus a host) enjoying dinner

We rose early on Sunday to attend mass: three masses to be exact.


One thing that really struck me during the services was the iconography in the churches.  Pictures of Monseignor Romero (former arch-bishop who was assassinated by the government – more on him in a future post) and Jon Cortina (a Jesuit priest who was dedicated to finding children missing during the civil war) were up on or next to the altar along with Jesus on the cross.  On both sides of the altar were pictures of all the people who “disappeared” during the civil war.  Along the walls next to the pews, the Stations of the Cross were interspersed with imagines of the martyred Jesuit priests and people suffering from government’s brutal crackdown in the 1970s and 80s.  Padre Miguel’s sermons spoke to the importance of average citizens organizing themselves, working together to help their communities and to fight oppression.

Monseignor Romero is seated at the right hand of Jesus

Pictures of the disappeared on both sides of the altar

Modified Stations of the Cross: Massacre

Modified Stations of the Cross: Martyred Priests

What is more, the priest handed out a political newsletter – fiercely critical of the right-wing party, ARENA – after every sermon.  It seemed empowering in a way, but at the same time it made my stomach twist a little.  In contrast to the United States, in El Salvador the church has traditionally been a political instrument for the left, while right wing conservatives have criticized them for mixing religion and politics (though religious conservatives do advocate against abortion and gay relationships here as well).  I tend to believe there needs to be an appropriate line between church and state, and religious leaders who use the pulpit to support a candidate or further a political objective cross that line (this also violates their tax exemptions).  While El Salvador may not have the same church/state history as the U.S., the same debate exists.  Thinking about the role of the Catholic Church during the civil war (and still today) made me reflect on the critical role the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) played in fighting against oppression and for equality for blacks in America.  While the SCLC was a political organization, the majority of its original members were ministers.  For SCLC members, there was a natural connection between their faith and their cause.  The two could not be separated.  The organization’s approach was indeed controversial, but effective.  I guess how you perceive the involvement of the church is politics can depend to a good degree on which side of an issue you’re on.


El Salvador’s history does make me reflect on the role of the church in politics, but I cannot say I understand the founding principles of the country well enough to draw a comparison to the United States.  I cannot say its founders were as committed to the separation of church and state for which Madison, Jefferson and others so passionately advocated.  The society here also just tends to be more religious in nature that the U.S. – heck the country’s name means “The Savior”.  One thing is clear is that this debate won’t be resolved any easier than it will be in the States.  We will both continue to try and keep the appropriate distinction between the two, while recognizing that faith influences our perspectives and decisions no matter how hard we may try and keep it separate from our politics.      

"Savior of the World", one of San Salvador's main landmarks

Padre Miguel was intensely involved in the struggle for rights for the poor during El Salvador’s civil war, and those rights were central to his ministry.  He told me stories about the war, about the disappearance of his friends and parishioners, of fellow priests being killed by the government.  He spoke highly of Jim McDermott, a congressman from Washington State who fought to end the American government’s support for the El Salvadoran government.  He spoke less highly of other members of Congress who supported the Reagan Administration’s approach.


(On a side note, I learned that Madison, WI is the sister city of Arcatao!  During the civil war, representatives from Madison snuck behind guerilla lines to better understand the reality on the ground.)

After attending the third mass and grabbing a quick lunch of rice, beans and tortillas at the home of a parishioner, we hit the road heading towards Nueva Concepcion for the town’s annual corn festival.  We were accompanied by the young Jesuit seminarians and a collection of parishioners.  The event was small town festival at its finest: families out celebrating with their young children, entrepreneurs selling food and drink, people strolling in the streets, and local bands strutting their stuff.

Are you ready to shuck?

And I have to admit: I was impressed by the clown.  Clowns are everywhere in El Salvador – usually doing routines and asking for money on the buses.  I tend to think clowns are more creepy than funny, but this guy had the crowd absolutely roaring. 

We got back to Arcatao late in the evening and the next morning Padre Miguel drove me back to San Salvador.