Wednesday, December 12, 2012


Un Pueblo de Guadalupanos


Feast day celebrates patroness of the Americas


By BRENDA NETTLES RIOJAS
The Valley Catholic

BROWNSVILLE — Priests on horseback, matachines dancing in the streets, the voices of the faithful, hundreds, joined in prayer and song, as processions from three directions converge on Lincoln Street for a Mass commemorating the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe.

On Dec. 12, the feast day of the patroness of the Americas, you can feel the energy of the community coming together to celebrate.

While millions make a pilgrimage each year to the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City for the feast day, local celebrations draw hundreds and thousands here in the Rio Grande Valley.

In the Diocese of Brownsville, three historical parishes (in Brownsville, Mission and Raymondville) and three mission churches (in Expressway Heights, La Villa and El Sauz) named after Our Lady of Guadalupe can serve as pilgrimage sites closer to home. Her feast day is an ideal time as each church prepares a full schedule in honor of their namesake.

Bishop Daniel E. Flores, during an outdoor Mass in 2011 for the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Brownsville, said, “We recognize the importance to publically manifest the faith we have of God’s closeness through the presence of the Mother of Christ in our lives.”

He said, the Virgin Mary announces with her presence the new hope of the world. “Dios se acuerda de su pueblo. (God remembers his people.)”

The public manifestation joins parishioners from different parishes. Some parishes celebrate with midnight vigils, mañanitas, processions, and plays honoring the Virgin Mary.

In the Brownville procession in 2011, while some walked and sang, floats carried representations of the apparition with young girls dressed as the Blessed Mother and young boys as Blessed Juan Diego. Our Lady’s image, multiplied on banners, paintings, and t-shirts, was carried through the streets.

The faithful also bring her roses on Dec. 12, some cut from home gardens, some purchased, some made of silk and others hand made from paper.

Father Jorge Gomez, chancellor of the diocese and pastor of Holy Family Church in Brownsville, said it is important to continue the traditions of the Dec. 12 feast day. “We are one family and she gathers us together on that day,” he said.

“Amid the moral and cultural challenges of our time,” Father Gomez said, “she is looked to as model for furthering the new evangelization.”

“Our Lady of Guadalupe has been the greatest missionary that the world has known,” he said. “She is still changing hearts and minds. We continue honoring her as the mother of God, and she will continue leading us to her son Jesus Christ.”

The feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe was chosen by bishops of the United States to be a part of the Calendar for U.S. dioceses in 1971. The feast day commemorates the apparition of the Virgin Mary to the Indian Juan Diego, at Tepeyac, a hill northwest of Mexico City in December, 1531, ten years after the conquest of Mexico by Spain.

Oblate priest Father Roy Snipes, pastor of Our Lady of Guadalupe Church in Mission, said the apparition “tells us she (Virgin Mary) loves us and is with us.”

He said that just as Juan Diego, who was canonized in 2002, responded to Our Blessed Mother’s request almost 500 years ago, celebrations on her feast day remind us “ordinary people in their ordinary lives are in touch with God’s saving love.”

On Wednesday, Dec. 12, Bishop Flores will celebrate an outdoor Mass at Our Lady of Guadalupe Church in Brownsville with parishioners from all the local churches.

(Originally published in the December 2012 issue of The Valley Catholic newspaper.)

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Go west to Starr County

Sanctuary 

found among

the mesquites

in rattlesnake

country


By Brenda Nettles Riojas
The Valley Catholic

RIO GRANDE CITY – Sometimes, we need a break from routine, so I went west. I made my way to an oasis of quiet, hidden among the mesquites, brush and cacti in Starr County where the Sisters of the Benedictine Monastery of the Good Shepherd welcome visitors year round.

Some guests come to visit for a few hours, some to stay at one of the casitas on the property for a personal retreat, and some for a discernment weekend or a group retreat. I came for a combination of field reporting and a mini private retreat.

The rock and gravel road leading to the monastery slowed my pace from the start. There is no speeding, no rush, on Monastery Lane.

It’s a good idea to call in advance and make arrangements. Some weekends the retreat center and casitas fill with retreatants. Plus, the sisters like to be on hand to welcome every guest.

They personalized a note outlining some essentials (the gate code and the code to the Fountain of Life Chapel for Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament). Included as well, some advice in case snakes are around: “Just let them pass and continue.”

“The Good Shepherd Handmaidens pray for you before you arrive, during your stay and in your absence,” reads the note.

The monastery exists because of the dreams, prayers and work of these “handmaidens” – three sisters from Crookston, Minn., Benedictine Sisters Nancy Boushey, Luella Walsh and Fran Solum, who moved to the Rio Grande Valley in the early 70s and mid-80s.

“We had $900 and an old car and a lot of people praying for us, and some of them thinking we were crazy of course, and sometimes we thought we were crazy too,” Sister Nancy shared about their decision in 1989 to give up their salaried positions and start their monastery in the remote reaches of Starr County.

Monasteries have a long history dating back to the fourth and fifth century. Sisters Nancy, Luella and Fran live in a monastic community and “live the Gospel in the spirit of Saint Benedict.” St. Benedict is known as the founder of western monasticism.

Twenty-three years since the nuns moved west to Starr County, their monastery serves as an ideal place to visit and find some quiet time for prayer in the remote dry brush land. One of the highlights, however, comes from spending time with the Sisters. Their welcoming spirit and love exemplify Christ’s teachings. Without words, their kindness and hospitality inspire me.

They inspire others as well. Shortly after moving into a rat infested home in El Sauz, the three sisters mobilized hundreds of volunteers and started raising funds for their monastery.

Just eight miles from the Rio Grande River, the monastery sits on 115 acres of land donated by Texaco Oil Company in 1993. But it took seven years to get an easement to what the sisters call their “Promised Land.” Meanwhile, they lived in a mobile home until 2004.

The nuns added the Monte Cassino Renewal and Conference Center in 2008 to accommodate retreats for lay and religious groups. They are now raising funds to add additional rooms.

Visitors staying in one of the casitas provide for their own meals, but during my visit, the sisters invited me to join them for a grilled cheese sandwich and soup dinner. As we ate, an array of cardinals, green jays, house wrens and tree swallows pecked at their own dinner at feeders outside the window. Some days, road runners and javelinas make an appearance as well.

“Our guardian angels are the paisanos (roadrunners). They kill rattlesnakes,” said Sister Nancy.

During my stay I had a chance to spend some time with the women participating in their monthly Ora et Labora Discernment Weekend. Ora et Labora is Latin for pray and work.

Irma Wolcott from Laguna Vista was assisting that weekend as she does monthly with the discernment vocation retreats. She first visited the monastery six years ago. “They (nuns) are absolutely wonderful. Their hospitality is tremendous,” she said. “You feel like you are walking on holy ground,” she added about the monastery.

After our visit, we ended with the Lectio Divina and I returned to the Blessed Marmion Casita just a few feet from the monastic residence. When Sister Nancy assigned me to the casita I had not heard of Blessed Marmion, a Benedictine Irish monk who was beatified by Blessed John Paul II in 2000. After some research I learned that Blessed Marmion’s spiritual writings are highly regarded.

I stayed up past 1 a.m. writing, enjoying the solitude. The next morning, I did not want to leave the serenity of the brush country. I delayed my departure with an early morning walk and some time sitting in the back patio of the casita. My visit not long enough, but I know I will return – si Dios quiere.

(Originally published in the November 2012 issue of The Valley Catholic newspaper.)

Friday, November 2, 2012

Dia de Los Muertos 

at the Narciso Martinez Cultural Arts Center, San Benito

We celebrated with words and honored our mothers and fathers, abuelas y abuelas, tías y tíos, and so many others who came before us.

I read a new poem that I am still tweaking. The working title is "La Muerte No Triunfa." The poem was inspired by a story I wrote two years ago (see story below) and my own run ins and confrontations with death.



We Remember the Dead


Death does not mean the end.

“Life is changed, not ended,” said Father Gregory Labus, coordinator of the Office of Liturgy and Worship for the Diocese of Brownsville and pastor of St. Joseph Church in Edinburg.

November, he pointed out, is the month dedicated to remembering the dead.

On All Saints' Day, Nov. 1, Catholics honor the saints, and on All Souls' Day, Nov. 2, Catholics not only remember those who have died but they also celebrate life, he said.

One tradition to mark All Souls' Day -- Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) -- is experiencing a resurgence in the Rio Grande Valley. It involves making an altar in memory of family and friends who have died.

Father Ignacio Luna, pastor at St. Benedict Church in San Benito said “undoubtedly, this is a custom that is growing…It awakens once again that consciousness that was getting lost.”

“It makes people think about the future, about death and not just about the material world, but about how we live our lives and treat others,” he added.

Each year at his parish, Father Luna sets up an altar for the dead so that parishioners may bring photos of their loved ones and place their ofrendas, items the deceased liked, such as flowers, food or candy.

Father Jorge Gomez, Chancellor of the Diocese of Brownsville and pastor of Holy Family in Brownsville, said the tradition goes back to the Aztecs and the Mayans who offered a Feast of the Little Dead remembering infants and children, and a Feast of the dead.

"For God no one is dead, everyone is alive, and we celebrate their lives," he said. "It's a way to commemorate and remember people we love. ... As long as we remember, they're still alive in our hearts and minds."

Father Luna, who grew up in Mexico, remembers the elaborate preparations from his childhood and that continue in many parts of Mexico. He points to the bright colors used – vivid oranges, greens, purples, yellows and reds –and to the festive atmosphere that surrounds the day.

“The colors are alive,” he said. “They manifest the joy because there is no sadness, no mourning, no use of black. There is simply joy and happiness because their souls are already in God’s hands.”

“Es una fiesta no para llorar, sino para gozar,” he said.

Octavio Paz once wrote that, “In the United States the word death burns the lips, but the Mexican lives close to it, jokes about it, caresses it, celebrates it, sleeps with it, it is his favorite toy.”

Hence some of the customs, such as decorating the altars with skeletons and skulls, poke fun at death and serve as reminders about our mortality.

Father Gomez said, “It’s a cultural way of looking at death… La muerte no triunfa. We celebrate life, not death. We are not afraid of death because death does not have the final word in this life,” he added.

Sister Norma Pimentel, a Missionary of Jesus who is the diocesan director of Catholic Charities, said that creating an altar to remember the dead can help in the healing process of dealing with the death of a loved one. “It helps us accept and recognize that we are born of the earth and return to it.”

“We celebrate death and elevate them (loved ones) to God. We accept every aspect of our lives,” she added.

She said the entire process of making an altar contributes to the healing. “Collecting the items for the altar and placing them alongside religious icons in conjunction with pictures helps us remember them, and what they meant in our lives.”

One aspect of All Souls' Day that tends to get lost in the United States is "the doctrine of purgatory," which "has been overshadowed," Father Labus said. Since the Second Vatican Council, he noted, "there has not been as much emphasis for prayer for the dead."

The liturgical readings during this time of year shift to the end of times when God comes in glory and calls his people home, he said. "The Gospel readings focus on the idea that we must always be prepared and ask us to reflect on the question: Have we lived our lives according to the Gospels?"

"It's all tied together," Father Labus said. "On All Souls' Day we pray and remember the dead, and we are reminded that we will follow and should live the Gospel now."

Originally published in The Valley Catholic, October 2010

Monday, October 29, 2012


In honor of the Feast Day of St. Jude Thaddeus celebrated Oct. 28, here is an article I wrote for the Pilgrimages Close to Home series published in The Valley Catholic Newspaper.










“La Cuevita” de San Judas Tadeo


By Brenda Nettles Riojas
The Valley Catholic

PHARR — Inside a small cave in Pharr, candles flicker night and day before a statue of St. Jude Thaddeus, the patron saint for hopeless cases.

Each day people come. They come all day said Sister Estela Cantu, a secular sister of the Oratory of St. Philip Neri, and pastoral administrator of St. Jude Thaddeus Church in Pharr.
They come to pray before the saint and ask for his intercession. They come to give him thanks.

Ignacio and Alejandra Hernandez of Edinburg, originally from Mexico City, come every eight days, “To thank him for all his favors, and for all the ways he helps us,” said Alejandra Hernandez, adding “porque es muy milagroso.”

Ignacio Hernandez wears a green and white habit and holds his miracle, his three-year-old son, in his arm and he walks on his knees approaching the shrine dedicated to St. Jude.

“The doctors said I could not have another child,” his wife shares as she holds her baby daughter in her arms. The Hernandez have three children now. They named their second child, the three-year-old, Tadeo after the saint. Their oldest son is now 13.
Sister Cantu said, “It’s beautiful to see the way people come in. …He just has so many followers who are very grateful for what he has done for them. St. Jude intercedes for them.”
“They keep coming back to thank him every time with flowers, with candles,” she added.
She noted that even though the parish does not publicize “la cuevita” as it has been called over the years, people find it. “He has a lot of followers. We’re here in a little corner, but people find us.”
Buses filled with pilgrims come on the weekend as well; some arrive from Houston and San Antonio after their visit to the Basilica of Our Lady of San Juan del Valle-National Shrine in San Juan.

While the shrine is popular year round, the saints feast day on Oct.28 draws even larger numbers of faithful who want to honor the saint. Sister Cantu said people come all day and bring mariachis and matachines, and many come dressed as St. Jude.

Also, leading up to the feast day, the parish promotes a solemn novena. This year the novena begins Oct.20 and every intention and petition received will be placed under the altar during the Masses on Oct. 28.

A pathway from the parish church leads to the “Cuevita de San Judas Tadeo,” a man-made cave constructed around 1952 to house a statue of St. Jude Thaddeus, one of the twelve apostles.

The small concrete shrine, which measures 33 feet by 25 feet, was built to accommodate the high volume of faithful and the candles they left before the statue inside the church. The parish community at the time was afraid the church might catch fire because of all the candles.

Oratorian Father Leo Francis Daniel said a chapel with a cross was built adjacent to “la cuevita” to remind people that Christ comes first and that St. Jude is an intercessor.

Who knows how many people have come and have kneeled at the entrance of the cave praying before
the saint who gives them hope? Some clues as to the requests and petitions are left behind on two side bulletin boards and wire grids where the faithful pin milagro charms and notes, thank yous and supplications – their hopes and needs left before the saint. They leave photos of sonograms, newborns, soldiers, quinceañeras, homes, and wrecked cars.

One woman left a note asking for prayers for her surgery scheduled this past July. Another left a photo of her home asking St. Jude for his help. “No quiero perder mi casa,” (“I don’t want to lose my home”) it reads.

Norma Ramos of Harlingen visited on a Saturday afternoon at the sun’s peak hour. She has been visiting the “cuevita” for 20 years. She came with her daughter and grandchildren. Her daughter, Gloria, credits her mother for passing on the devotion to St. Jude.

“You pray and your prayers get answered,” Gloria Ramos said.

St. Jude Thaddeus Church, which is under the care of the Oratorian priests, was established in 1950. Each Tuesday at 7:30 p.m. they display a relic of St. Jude and celebrate a Novena Mass and Benediction. The Sunday Mass schedule includes a traditional Latin Mass at 8 a.m.

(Originally published in the October 2012 issue of The Valley Catholic newspaper.)


Monday, October 1, 2012

Lessons from the Camino

(An abriged version of the story was originally published in October edition of The Valley Catholic newspaper.)


By Brenda Nettles Riojas
The Valley Catholic

SANTIAGO DE COMPOSTELA, Spain – Nearly in tears I finished my first 14.5 miles on the Camino de Santiago from Sarria to Portomarin. We had five more days ahead of us, 55.5 miles more and who knows how many more uphill climbs, downhill stone tracks and steep descents.

Sarria in Galicia is the traditional start location, the 112-110 kilometer marker, for pilgrims who want to walk at least the last 100 kilometers of the Camino de Santiago and earn the Compostela.

My husband and I hope to walk the full Camino someday, the Way of St. James, which is one of the three most ancient pilgrimages. Each year thousands walk toward Santiago de Compostela, where the apostle St. James is believed to be buried. There are different starting points; the most ancient begins in France.

Air miles and some vacation days facilitated a shorter walk of six days on the Camino in late August. However, I soon discovered I had not factored in the training required for this particular pilgrimage and that I carried more than I needed.

Even before we arrived in Sarria I realized as we maneuvered through airports and train stations my backpack would be a challenge on the Camino.

With our pilgrim's passport ready to be stamped along the way, we started before sunrise and walked for nearly nine hours the first day. Yellow arrows and scallop shells along the path pointed the direction. I carried my backpack, which weighed at least 35 pounds, the entire day. An advocate for packing light, I had not followed my own advice. As the day progressed, my chivalrous husband lightened my pack slightly by adding a few of my items to his.

The weight of the backpack slowed my pace, and my hips, shoulders and back paid the price. I ended the day, not only with a bruised ego, but with my first ever foot blister from a hike, a sprained ankle and an Achilles tendon, not to mention the sore arms and calf muscles. I don’t remember Martin Sheen’s character in the movie the “The Way” complaining about his legs or the weight of his pack.

I lost count of how many people passed me on the trail. As someone who takes pride in staying fit and undertakes physical challenges such as hiking the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu and climbing Mount Sinai in the dark or cycling 100-plus miles in one day from Brownsville to Roma, I felt added pain when a group of four grandmothers left me and my bruised ego behind on the trail. One woman I met from Dublin, Ireland is 72. Monica Gaynor started the Camino five years ago in France. She returns each year to do a section. This was her last 100 kilometers.

What was I thinking? Lack of exercise and the resulting extra pounds are not elements conducive to becoming what my husband calls “battle-ready.” The first day of the hike confirmed that I was in the worst shape of my life.

I was humbled, however, by the generous and caring spirit of the pilgrims, strangers on the Camino, who slowed their own pace out of concern to ask if I needed help.

I felt spiritually prepared for a pilgrimage having just completed St. Louis de Montfort’s 33-day Consecration to Jesus through Mary devotion, but I had neglected the physical aspect. Kilometer after kilometer I became painfully aware of the need to be a good steward of our health and body.

I found consolation from my aches and pains in the countryside, the hamlets and streams we passed where black berries grow wild along the trail lined at times by apple trees, pear trees and fig trees. The Camino offered a welcome peace and quiet. The weather in Galicia, averaging 70 degrees, added a welcome change from the South Texas temperatures we left back home peaking above 100.

Instead of dwelling on my weaknesses and feeling sorry for myself, I drew inspiration from the different people we met along the way, peregrinos from different countries, backgrounds, ages and faiths, each with their own reason for walking the Camino.

Catherine Masson, a woman from Paris, walked with me for six kilometers. Despite the pain in her own feet, not once did she consider ending her walk. Her friend walked ahead to reserve beds for them at the albergue and Catherine maintained her own pace. In no hurry to arrive, she continued forward certain of her goal and the destination.

She said each year she packs less and less. She started on the Camino seven years ago in La Puy, France, and each year she walks for two weeks. “You learn on the Camino how little you need," she said.

The long walk, highlighted by small villages along the route, provided me time to reflect about the weight I carried. Lesson learned: Pack light. Trust that God will provide. Keep in mind, the heavier our packs, the more difficult the trail – both literally and metaphorically. I obviously still held on to material offerings of the world and find it challenging to lighten my pack. We even packed a tent and camping stools, just in case all the beds were full at the albergues.

After the first grueling day, we found room at an emergency albergue in Portomarin, which opened after all the other albergues had filled with pilgrims. We paid 5 Euros each for a bed in a room with 24 bunk beds and community showers available.

In Portomarin we discovered I was not the only one who wanted to ditch a heavy backpack. Several signs pointed us to transport services. I did not waste a minute in arranging Mochilas David to transport our backpacks at 3 Euros a pack to the next stopping point on the route.

That night I did not know if I would be able to walk the next day. I did not maintain any illusions of rescuing my pride on this journey, but at the same time I didn’t want to give up the walk. It was too early to face defeat. I resolved to put my walk in God’s hands and walk as much as possible given my sprained ankle.

I did walk on day two. I managed 7 kilometers (4.3 miles) before asking a waiter in Gonzar to call a cab. Catherine, one of the pilgrims I walked with part of the Camino encouraged me to continue. She assured me it would be easier today without the heavy pack. But my ankles and heels forced me to acknowledge my limitations and insisted on a break.

I opted to sit day three out and rest my ankle. While my husband, who hardly complained, took to the road, I took a bus and caught up with him in the next town, Melide. By the end of our pilgrimage I managed to hike five of the six days, 86 km (53.4 miles). It was refreshing to be on the Camino and focus on the path in front of me, leave work, deadlines and bills behind in Texas. While I kept a slower pace, too slow by my husband’s standards, I relished the views.

At each town that served as our base for the night, the meals were especially memorable. Not only did each dish nourish us, the flavors served as a reward after a long walk. We savored the pulpo de Galicia (Octpus) drizzled with olive oil, sea salt and spicy paprika, the homemade churros dipped in a thick hot chocolate, and the Spanish empanadas stuffed with a tomato and tuna mixture, and of course the wine.

The last day we walked six hours in a constant drizzle and light rain. We arrived ten minutes late for the pilgrim’s Mass at St. James Cathedral.

Someday, should God will it, I hope to join the thousands who have walked the entire Camino.

I return from my pilgrimage humbled and with lessons learned. I was reminded on the Camino that the journey won’t always be easy; we will face challenges along the way, and sometimes we need to slow our pace. Without sacrifice the arrival may not hold as much meaning.

The Camino enlightened me on the need let go and not carry so much on the journey. It also reminded me that we need to maintain balance in our lives, both spiritually and physically.

At the pilgrims' Mass at St. James Cathedral, the priest reminded us that the pilgrimage continues.

We each walk at a different pace on the journey. We don’t always walk side by side, but we are there to offer each other help along the way and wish each other a “Buen Camino.”



Saturday, September 1, 2012

"Buen Camino"

We return from the Camino de Santiago (The Way of St. James) with sore feet and aching muscles. We return as well blessed by the people we met along the way. Following an ancient pilgrimage path traveled by thousands upon thousands, my husband and I started our six-day walking journey from Sarria, in Galicia.

I knew the Camino would come with an abundance of stories, and some will take time to shape into poems or essays.  Day one presented me with one story I had not anticipated. It is a story about confronting my own limitations. It is a story about humility. I quickly realized, painfully, that I am out of shape and that I packed more than I needed for the trail.