Father’s Day Reflection

A Fathers Day reflection from my trip to Chiapas in June 2017:

A couple days ago I went to see Padre Marcelo, a beloved priest in highland Chiapas. I traveled about 3 1/2 hours through beautiful mountains to reach Simojovel, the parish where he is posted.  I first met him in Chenalho’ where he inspired my indigenous friends there by his dedication to their struggle, which is also his, because he is an indigenous man, the first indigenous priest in Chiapas.  Padre Marcelo grew up in San Andrés Larrainzar working the land just like my compadres and friends in Chenalho’. A few years ago he had to be reassigned to Simojovel because of threats to his life from his activism in Chenalho’, following the massacre at Acteal and then the fight to keep the government from building a rural city there.  Sadly, the threats haven’t ended as he has taken a stand against the drug dealers in Simojovel.

Padre Marcelo and I had a date for breakfast at 11 a.m. My main reason for going to see him was to put in his hands a copy of  “Maya Faces in a Smoking Mirror” the film that I’ve been helping Bill Jungles produce. Since arriving in Chiapas I’ve had the privilege of delivering the film to all the participants and most of the time being able to watch it with them and hear their responses. My hopes were that I could to that after breakfast with Padre Marcelo, who speaks eloquently in the film about the harm rural cities have done to the indigenous people of Chiapas.

The feast day of San Antonio was just wrapping up when we arrived and the streets were still festooned with colored flags. I arrived with my friend Petra, who was born there and wanted to see the township again and one of her friends, a retired bilingual teacher from Huistan.  We easily found the church in front of the plaza and walked up to doors leading into a large room where Padre Marcelo was standing in a baseball cap and black t-shirt speaking in Tsotsil before a large gathering of mostly indigenous men and a few mestizo men and women, representatives of the town and state government. It soon became clear to us that they were having an important meeting and that it wasn’t ending any time soon.  We sat down to learn what was happening and found that this was a meeting about providing water from one or two springs in the mountains to the entire township of about 50 ejidos and barrios. People were thanking Padre Marcelo right and left because he had started the campaign to bring water to everyone in the township.  The governor finally came through and the engineers were there to begin their studies of the springs tomorrow.  At the meeting representatives of the communities were assembled to talk about how they wanted the process to go.  This was another day of seeing in action the liberation theology practice  —  “see, analyze, and act.”

Petra and her friend soon tired of listening to the talk, although they both speak Tsotsil. They left to walk around town and I stayed to listen. After about an hour and a half Padre Marcelo announced that they would break into groups to analyze what they had heard and decide how to proceed from there.  I figured this was my chance to speak to him. He had already asked me to stand up and introduced me as an “hermana” from the US who knew him from Chenalho’ and hadn’t forgotten him. (How could I!) And I had already taken out of my bag the dvd and a gift for him and had come to terms with the fact that I wouldn’t be talking with him that day, much less watch the dvd with him.

When I reached Padre Marcelo he gave me a big hug, graciously accepted the dvd and my thanks for all he is doing for his people, and then said the words that prompted me to write this reflection. He held my hands and asked almost tenderly, “Have you eaten?” I was moved by his words because they were not what you would expect to hear from a priest, but instead from a mother or someone who cares about you. And indeed, that is what Padre Marcelo does, he cares about and for thousands of people.  That means he cares that they have their most basic needs met  – potable water and food to eat. He knows what it is to be hungry and go without water. He knows the value of corn and caring for mother earth so she can continue to produce food for her children.

Padre Marcelo asked a young man to take me to the kitchen. When I got there I realized that the cook would have to prepare a special breakfast for me, that, combined with the irony of having to eat alone when that is so strange here, I declined the offer and went to join my friends in the plaza where they were eating chalupas.

I only had one minute with Padre Marcelo, but his words moved me deeply and made me think about all the different kinds of fathers there are who sacrifice for their children and their communities.

Christine Eber