In La Campa there are four church buildings and three congregations. Or should I say there are four meeting houses and three churches? Two are Catholic, and two are Evangelical – the two main denominational distinctions in Honduras as far as I can tell. We have two active Evangelical congregations and one active Catholic congregation in La Campa, although the Catholic congregation is more than double the size of the two Evangelical congregations put together. The fourth meeting house is Catholic, but has been vacant for years and is being slowly weathered away in a beautiful manner.
When I arrived in La Campa, I determined that I would attend an Evangelical church, although my host family is Catholic. The previous SALTer in my position lived with the pastor of one of these churches, so I figured that would be a good one to attend. I was very challenged by the experience there, and the other Evangelical church is not much different. The walls were mostly bare, except for a quote from Proverbs, a quote from the pastor, a letter endorsing the pastor, and the schedule of worship which included a quote from Hebrews 13:17, which said “Obey your pastors and submit to them.” I also felt awkward jumping up and down at the beginning of the service to demonstrate our joy of worship, and meandering songs which each had the same three chords from an electric bass guitar and one drum rhythm. I have been spoiled by the wonderful musical gifts at BMC! Although I was not able to feel comfortable worshiping God in that context, it is obvious that many do. So take my comments with a grain of salt.
So in mid-November, I decided I would try attending the Catholic church with my host family. Most of my exposure to Catholicism has been through the Martyr’s Mirror and through news reports, neither of which is very positive. So I’ve set about trying to remedy this lack in my education. I read a fascinating book called “Why be Catholic?” by Richard Rohr, which covered some of the basics of the good and bad of Catholic history, as well as its relevance in modern American society. And through attending mass for the past several weeks, I have come to appreciate a lot more about Catholicism. Let me try and describe my experiences here:
The service begins with the priest and 12 young people (about half boys and half girls) processing in carrying the cross, bible, candles and sometimes incense. The young people help during the service, and wear white robes. The priest also has a white robe, but he also has a coloured over-robe – right now it is purple, for Advent. After a welcome, the priest shares joys and concerns of the community. We then confess our sins as a community (including what we have said, what we have done, what we have left undone). Then comes three scripture readings: two by congregants, but the Gospel is read by the priest, who then preaches. His sermons are always very wide-ranging, from what I can understand, and sometimes I wonder why he brought a particular point. But I think that the purpose of his sermons is not only to comment on the scriptures, but also to bring in a bit more of a broader perspective from outside of La Campa. He has a very important job, in that it is through him that most people understand what is happening around them. Most adults here have had a very limited education, and in a sense, the priest provides a form of adult education through his sermons. This is conjecture, as I have not yet understood an entire sermon, but is based on several weeks of partial understanding.
After the sermon comes the offering, which is in several parts. Various congregants bring candles, flowers, fruit, bible, bread and wine to the altar, as our offering to God. Then the rest of the congregation has the opportunity to tithe our money. Then we share the peace of Christ, which is one of my favourite parts of the service. While singing, everybody hugs or shakes the hand of their neighbour. All the children go up to the front for a hug and blessing from the priest, and a number of adults go too. We confess our belief through the Apostle’s Creed, and pray as Jesus taught us (“Padre nuestro, que estás en el cielo”). With a final blessing from the priest, and a final song (other songs are scattered throughout the ser vice), the service ends.
I have been struck by the emphasis on community that I see at church, and that I read in Rohr’s book. In this context, it is as strong an emphasis as I have experienced in the Mennonite church. Musically, there is less emphasis on instruments as on the lifted voices of the people.
I enjoy looking around the church (building and people). The front couple of rows are always filled with little old ladies (my host grandmother among them; sadly, the abuela can’t come to church anymore). Most of them bring a candle to light during the service, as well as a black lace shawl to cover their heads. If they don’t have a shawl, they bring a towel for the same purpose. At the front of the sanctuary are three statues of Jesus, including one on the cross, two statues of San Matías, the patron saint of the parish, and a picture of the Virgin Mary. Along the side walls are the Stations of the Cross, two statues of Mary, one of Jesus, one of San Matías, and a large painting showing (I presume) heaven and hell. It sounds like an overwhelming amount of images, especially compared to the relative plainness of a Mennonite church. But it all somehow fits together.
PS As I write this, I am wearing two pairs of pants, two sweaters, one jacket and a scarf around my head. El norte has returned with a vengeance!
Working hard! My colleagues and I putting up chicken wire around our demonstration garden. We were only demonstrating how not to have a garden, especially as the chickens like to eat seeds, ripe strawberries, etc.
A spectacular sunset over La Campa, looking from the office.
Dust. 
The Church of San Manuel. This is a church in the neighbouring municipality. It is rumoured to be the oldest in Central America, but also one of the most decorated. I was able to see inside at a different visit, but not take pictures. The inside is stencilled all over with mud-based paints, and the Jesus on the crucifix is black. A gorgeous church.
Part one of the Festival of San Matìas, the patron saint of La Campa. Altar assistants robed in white came from all over the four municipalities to help out, and mass was said outside the church, as we couldn't all fit inside.
My neighbours, granddaughters of my host family, celebrating Haydee's third birthday!
Last Friday the president of Honduras, the US ambassador, the head of USAID Honduras and several other dignitaries came to La Campa to celebrate $82million from USAID that will be coming to the region over the next five years. See my post on discontent for more.
Security was tight-ish for the president's visit. Most noticeable were the soldiers in the bell tower of the church. I think I took more pictures of them than of the president!
One of the byproducts of coffee production is "aguas mieles" or "honey water." The coffee beans ferment in water for a while, and this water is very acidic and very full of organic matter, promoting bacterial growth. It is a significant form of contamination in the area.
This is a biodigestor, and the coolest one I've seen yet. Beneath the central concrete circle is a large underground chamber. A mixture of manure and water gets put in the biodigestor from the right hand pipe. Bacteria break down the manure, creating biogas (methane, primarily). The gas will leave the central chamber through the small tube which will be connected to a gas stove for cooking. A high quality fertilizer comes out at the far left. Marvelous!
Although we have an inch or two of dust in La Campa, up in the mountains it's a bit damper. The truck slid into the ditch on a clay mud road. We all attached ourselves to ropes and pulled it out!
We visited a group of sugar producers. They used to use wood for their fires as the cooking stoves were really inefficient. Now they just need a bit of wood to start up the fire, and then they can use the crushed sugar cane for the rest. In this picture you can see the cane juice boiling down, and the fire burning brightly below.
