The veils have been multiplying over time. I never said a word. I recall Father Z put up a number of post about veils. He’ll make a comment one way or the other and then say that he’s now backing out of the room slowly… slowly… RUN!
But it’s not that way here. I guess because I’ve simply never said anything. This wasn’t so much a thing that started up here as much as it was brought up from Mexico with our immigrant community. But I can’t really say immigrant so much as time goes on, as lots of kids have now been born here, and have grown up here, fully citizens. So nothing “illegal” as some might strangely say, not with the veils, not with the people.
It’s this kind of scene pictured above that is so very different from what we see in the mass media.
Every year the Mexicans in the parish put on a celebration for the sending up of “El Grito” which started the movement ending up with independence from Spain. Very many attend, including many non-Mexicans. There were those from Central and South America, and gringos were everywhere to be seen. Food is spectacularly delicious. Lots of prizes. Lots of dances. Lots of music.
Because this is spearheaded by the Mexicans of the parish, and because they wear their parish T-Shirts, and because everyone knows everyone anyway, this acts also as a bit of evangelization for those fallen away or who are all too conveniently pretending to rebel in some Iglesia Bautista or some other imaginary excuse for letting things slide. They all come. They all have a great time. They all figure out it wouldn’t be so bad to go to the Catholic Church. And in fact, there were new faces to be seen Sunday, the day after. And there were great conversations with some fallen aways. ;-) The above picture, leaving out the crowds below the frame, is in the town’s community center because our parish hall is too small.
We have some new police officers in town. As far as I know, like all law enforcement in the area of whatever kind, they have little interest in throwing the undocumented out of the country in a booming economy with workers in short supply. But things have changed. I asked if we should invite the local law enforcement and that idea was met with enthusiasm but it was also said that some might feel uncomfortable. It is what it is. That’s too bad. Just a few years ago the Latinos put on a meal for the law enforcement in town and then, later, law enforcement in town put on a meal for the Latinos.
I hope this doesn’t sound racist, but the truth of the matter is that our Mexican brothers and sisters work hard, and they show up for work, even for long hours, for emergency hours, for really early start times and really late call-it-a-day hours. Many of our “Anglo” brothers and sisters as they are called have lost the concept of work, of entrepreneurship, of any kind of go-get-em attitude. We need to get that back again. We can take good example from our Mexican brothers and sisters.
I took this picture yesterday. It’s one of those impossible coincidences that happen to me all the time. I knew the people involved, that is, if they are same ones I had talked with quite a number of times over the space of months a while back. I guess these kind of coincidences make things come full circle, maybe so that I can pray for them, maybe to teach me that everyday interactions with people can be important because you don’t know when life is going to radically change or be finished in this world.
There are four or five cruisers at the top of the far hill and another half dozen in front of a residence with all sorts of ambulances and law enforcement vehicles frantically moving to diverse staging areas all around, sirens blaring and blue lights alerting.
The offending residence is catty-corner from Sharing House and behind The Haven homeless hostel and the Bread of Life soup kitchen where I would volunteer for years.
I was interested in buying a woods-trailer that was out on their side yard with a For Sale sign slapped on it. Knocking on the door… Nothing… Knocking… Voices inside… Nothing… This went on for some weeks when I would be at the soup kitchen and when I would want to bother about the trailer again. Finally, a twenty-something kid cracked the door and asked what I wanted. I expressed interest in the trailer. He came out and we discussed through his broken English the shape it was in, with me wanting it to actually work with real tires and working lights in the back so that it was roadworthy enough to get to the hermitage. This conversation took some months, with me checking on the progress of any work on the trailer. I was in no rush.
During this time we also talked about life in Honduras, where they were all from, and life in this house. We talked about their crossing the border, blah blah blah. We talked about the soup kitchen (which detectives would visit now and again, so they avoided that), and going to church. He knew I was a priest. The very distinct impression I was getting in the midst of all this is that this was not a family house, nor were the other guys in this packed house even his friends. It seemed instead to be a safe house for a gang, a gang from Honduras. Lemme see…. that would be…. MS-13? I don’t know. What do I know? Nothing. But I do know that you never have friends in gangs, ever. Impossible. There’s always a threat of death over you.
This guy was filled with fear. But he wanted money for the trailer. I was about ready to sign the papers (I wanted it to be official as it was something that would travel on the road with a licence plate on the back, with inspections, etc.), and said that when I came back with a notarized statement I would just knock at the door again.
“No!” he said, alarmed. “Don’t come to the door. If I’m outside, then I’m outside.” As he said this he half looked at the house. I knew that whatever it was that was going on inside wasn’t good and the situation was deteriorating. I gave up when he said he wasn’t going to attempt to make the trailer any more roadworthy and when the “Tag Office” as they call it here in N.C., said that the name wasn’t matching the trailer. That was a while back.
That was it with me and them, until I now pass by, my attention taken by fired bullets. Of course, maybe they had moved out and nothing was wrong except someone with a bunch of firecrackers. But someone running from the scene spoke of a shoot out and Latinos in that house. But it could be anything, right? Sigh. Hail Mary…
Meanwhile, the shrine is taking shape. Our Latino community is doing this and then that to the Guadalupe shine beside our little parish church. Mind you, that’s as all the immigration drama continues, while they fear being deported.
There are lots of ill-thought out comments these days. I should like to remind some people of some things.
By far, the vast majority of kids come over the border illegally without their parents. Don’t blame the parents when you don’t know the story. The parents could well have been killed, beheaded, even in front of the kids.
Those kids often come with adults, not because they want to, but because they were kidnapped by MS 13, Calle 18, or what-have-you, you know, after the parents were killed. It’s just easier for gang members to gain illegal entry when kids are in tow.
It’s not that the kids are “caged” so much as being put into protective custody (really nice protective custody as far as that goes). ICE wants to know, rightly, whether the parents are really parents or if they are, instead, gang members who still have the blood of the parents on their hands.
It’s not right to leave kids in the hands of kidnappers who will be happy to rape, dismember and murder these little ones – perhaps after prostituting them – just as soon as they are let out so as to appear for their court date. Sure, the kidnapper might be the older brother of the kids he is with, but, if he’s a gang member, well, really, you ought to know that these gangs also kill their own families to show that they are loyal no matter what to the gang.
Anecdote in my parish far North of the border, in Western North Carolina:
The police called me up to take an emergency trip to the hospital emergency room to translate for them. They had two Latino children in the ER. They had chased a van which then had a roll over in the ditch at high speed. The two kids inside were taken to the hospital by the police while the adults fled, abandoning the kids. Even though the police figured out that the adults were not the parents of the kids, they let the kids go. Where? I don’t know. Why? I don’t know. Is that the best policy? No.
Meanwhile, flowers are arranged for Jesus’ good mom. Why? Because she knows, she understands. She knew all the boys in Bethlehem had been slaughtered because of her own Son. She knows what it is to be in exile in an enemy country for years. She knows the violence of torture and death up close. She knows. That’s why. Doubt that? Look into her eyes:
Last night we had a Fathers Day party in the parish hall. Really wonderful. Packed. Lots of great fellowship. After a great meal and a “three milk” cake (that’s the best), I started chatting with one of the guys, a Mexican, you know, without papers. Today he mows lawns for a living. He told me a story about what life was like in his state in Mexico. Calling to mind commentary one sometimes hears, it seems that prejudice might dictate that he’s a criminal low-life who is illiterate, perhaps a member of a cartel, surely a drug dealer. Hah!
He said he got a phone call one day. It was one of the kidnappers of his daughter. That’s the nightmare phone call no parent ever wants to get. The kidnappers wanted Mex$ 220,000.00 or they would kill his daughter. I asked him if he paid. He laughed, shaking his head in derision of my stupidity, saying “No! Never!” Instead, he himself then made a call to some friends, Mexican State Police. They then explained the matter to the kidnappers in person. ;-) His daughter was set free, safe and sound. You see, our lawn-mower friend is himself Mexican State Police with half a lifetime of experience, highly tactically trained, equivalent to one of our special ops guys, martial arts, weapons, tactics. I asked him if he would like me to have a chat with the Sheriff here. He would be a treasure for us. He jumped at the idea but wonders how the bureaucracy would work. I’m sure something can be done about his lack of papers. He’s been here some 13 years, pays his taxes and his ‘wait in line’ fees, blah blah blah. And he can get plenty of super excellent job refs from both here and the Mexican government. So… nothing is ever as it seems. He’s the guy who, instead, might be giving one of the locals a ticket or handing over a warrant. I love it. ;-)
It might be argued that a priest shouldn’t talk about unpleasant topics because that somehow besmirches him, but a priest would be besmirched in my opinion if he didn’t talk about the darkest of humanity’s existential peripheries so as to see about addressing the problem. You can’t solve the problem unless you can name it and address it, right? Saying that priests should just be wusses and stand on the sidelines is NOT the way to go about things.
It might be argued that a priest shouldn’t talk about politics, as he is likely to alienate people from much more important religious matters, and therefore he is risking their eternal salvation for the sake of few banal comments on a few banal matters. This Catholic priest thinks that he has the right to talk about purely banal matters, being a tax-paying citizen, about whether or not, for instance, a road needs repaving before hiring more police, what with arguments about car-size potholes ending lives or lack of police who could have been there to slow people down coming to the fore depending on one’s point of view.
But some matters are both political and moral and therefore belonging both to the natural law and also to religion, God having created nature, after all. Thus, the morality of genocide, for instance, while being supported by politicians on one side of the political spectrum (Democrats, as demonstrated in the video above), is also a topic that a minister can validly address. God will be the judge if one is for or against, campaigns for or against, facilitates or places obstacles over against, for instance, genocide.
Sometimes certain matters are so important that methods of teaching that are out of the ordinary are called for. For instance, read a classic teaching-by-way-of-baiting event in Mark 3:1ff or Luke 6:6ff, when Jesus purposely called into the midst the man with the withered hand, curing him and making the others absolutely livid, furious, inciting their willful murderous intent so that they could see just how bad and evil they already were. Hah! “Oh, but, Father George! Baiting like that is mean! Jesus is a meanie!” No. Jesus was teaching truly horrifically cruel people a lesson. Period.
Recently I wrote a post about the genocide of the Cherokee promoted by Democrat Andrew Jackson. I compared the praise he lavished on those who took the land compared to some of those who took the land, the Scots-Irish. I’m also Scots-Irish, as I’ve redundantly pointed out on this blog (redundant because the name and family clan of Byers is, like, the definition of what a Scots-Irish person is). The baiting was to get a reaction to whatever the reader thought might be important, because, truth be told, I’m quite afraid that the same Democrat Andrew Jackson kill-em-all attitude is still to be found in abundance in this region. But sometimes it needs a bit of baiting to bring it out for all to see, including the people who, even unbeknownst to themselves, are genocidal without knowing it. It’s important to know who’s who. Law enforcement agencies do this kind of thing all the time, say, detectives, say, the FBI, say, the DEA, et alii. All the time. But, hey! You can even bait the baiters…
I would have hoped that it would be agreed that Andrew Jackson’s call for genocide was a terrible mar upon American history. But I thought, rightly, that some might take the bait and, revealing who they are in a comment, demonstrate that the only important thing for them is not that genocide began here, but that some among the Scots-Irish might have been criticized, I mean, like, you know, even the point of name calling, and in their opinion, entirely wrongly. Oooo! Name calling! “You, you, you, human being you!” I need to put up a post I wrote long ago about the name calling wrought by Jesus and His cousin John the Baptist. They’re the biggest name callers of all time because, truth be told, they were right both logically and morally and with integrity and honesty and goodness and kindness of actually taking people seriously enough to tell the truth. I’m not as proficient at name calling as they were, but – hey! – one can try!
Anyway, I won’t approve that one particular comment or reveal who that person is, you know, unless it appears they are going to continue some violence on the Cherokee or anyone not themselves, like the Latinos.
I’ll have to write a post about someone here – super intelligent – who was seriously rationalizing with the most refined moral argumentation the gunning down of Latinos in Graham County just to do it. Think about that. It’s reminiscent of 1920s Germany, you know, the lead-up. But I digress. Though not really. Oh! What’s this:
UPDATE: At the request of both the Latino and Anglo communities, whether Catholic or non-Catholic, I went to have a chat with the heads of the various branches of Law Enforcement. All said that sobriety checks are now extremely rare since there are so very many hurdles and logistic difficulties to overcome. In my recollection, two of the three checkpoints I went through were sobriety checks. Anyway, there certainly are plenty of licence and registration checks which can easily result in drug busts or whatever. All said that up to this point, no local law enforcement in the State of NC has been deputized as also being agents for ICE, Homeland, or whatever. That said, if there is a criminal conviction because of a stop, that info will be passed along. If ICE or Homeland happens to be nearby, that’s convenient. That said, a “normal” DWI/DUI is not a criminal offense, but, of course, it can be depending on any aggravating circumstances. That said, there are relatively very few ICE agents in North Carolina. Since this is all about criminals and convicted criminals, the whole drama about Twitter recounted below is exaggerated and wrongheaded. Let it be said: no one in the Latino community wants murderers and drug dealers and rapists around. The Latino community wants murderers and drug dealers and rapists to be deported. Period.
=============== Original article ===============
A bunch of us priests got together the other night for an awesome Easter Week meal of rib eyes and salad. These priests were from a number of states. Some of the conversation centered on checkpoint dramas. While news sources deny it vociferously, here’s what’s been going on:
The police, sheriffs, ICE, DHS, whatever, sets up a checkpoint. They can overlap, so that the stop is a “sobriety check” or a “licence and registration” check or whatever. The primary players can be local law enforcement, but there can be Feds waiting in the wings, much more numerous, to haul away the undocumented and immediately deport them depending on the situation. This fact of a checkpoint with location is immediately tweeted out to the undocumented among themselves. But local law enforcement and the Feds are on that twitter feed as well. So… Either the location of the checkpoint is immediately moved, or multiple checkpoints are set up on roads used to avoid the original checkpoint. In my parish in the mountains these checkpoints are impossible to avoid as there are only a couple of roads that lead anywhere. I’ve been through three checkpoints already.
Undocumented immigrants do themselves no favors by participating in an upcoming protest on May 1 in Charlotte where demands will be made, such as decriminalizing theft and prostitution, crimes in educational facilities, and driving under the influence. Organizers are racists, of course, in that they claim that this is what black and brown skinned people do: they steal, flaunt sex for money, smash our young students in the schools, and endanger the roads by driving under the influence, so much so that this is such a way of life that they say it is racist to punish such things as anything serious. Because it’s about those who are black as well, even primarily, I’m guessing this is a racist Delinquents Lives Matter event. How cynical of them. They are using the difficulties of the undocumented for their own selfish ends of these individuals wanting to commit more crime with impunity. That’s like a crime against humanity, a hate crime. Such racism.
Again, I suggest to our Latino friends that they ought best to dissociate themselves from such an even and let the Brat Lives Matter crowd embarrass themselves. Otherwise, you will paint yourselves as being out of control criminals who have a licence to kill.
Saint José Luis Sánchez del Río, soldier and martyr, because “all those Mexicans are the same!” Oh, I forgot, I was supposed to pick on someone who wasn’t yet canonized, you know, someone undocumented and who, say, committed a non-violent crime years ago but was still in the system at the invitation of the system, so that we could kick all Mexicans in the face with impunity.
But then another comment came in that was ranting away, with the author apparently having skipped reading those comments, very much upset. Here’s part of a very long comment. Pardon my emphases and [sometimes sarcastic comments]. And if I’m a bit rough here, please know that this person is a friend who I think can take this reprimand.
“I have no sympathy here. There are plenty of people who desperately want to come here but wait to do so legally. [This is continuously more difficult, next to impossible as the years, months and days go by, with contradictory, complex laws, layers and layers of labyrinthine mazes. As one commenter put it, this is somewhat our fault. We should streamline the process without foregoing safety. The thing is, we bait people to be illegal by baiting them to skip the line but also nevertheless to be in the system, checking in with ICE, paying taxes, etc.] I also have issue with the number of mexicans who are setting up their lives here with no intention to assimilate. [So, you know all of them? Can you name them? Even one? Did they tell you they have no intention?] It makes me crazy [!] when I enter into commerce [When you’re at the cash register? Who says to the cashier: “May I enter into commerce with you?” While that’s English, no one speaks that way. It smacks of a foreign speaker. What are doing in this country? You foreigners are all the same. You should be deported! ;-) ] at a place where the staff is speaking another language while waiting on customers who speak English. [Did you try to speak English or were you just offended? Did you greet the cashier in English or just fume about it?] I complained at a big box store because the cashier spoke in another language to an employee [Esperanto? Latin? Swahili? French? German? Russian!?] who was standing around [as security because of the presence of crazy people? as a cashier manager? as someone giving lessons in laziness?] and also to a customer [who spoke the same language? That’s polite, isn’t it?]who was dressed in a similar manner [So, you’re a writer for Saturday Night Live? What does that even mean? What are you really angry with? Do “they” have better taste than you? Are they more stylish? More “with it”, “up to date”, “mod”, “hip”? You’re envious?]. She uttered not a word to me the entire transaction and was solely focused on her two compatriots. [I often go through a checkout on the phone, which is really annoying, I know, but sometimes things can’t wait. An accident has occurred and a priest is needed, etc. I might speak in whatever language. At any rate, maybe they didn’t say anything to you because you didn’t say anything to them because you were too taken at looking at them all aghast at your own lack of style. Did you look angry? Impatient? Were they talking about trying to arrange a welcoming party for, say, local Russians to the neighborhood? Maybe they were talking about signing up for classes to perfect their English? Our Spanish speakers here put on a number of events for the local law enforcement. They arranged that in their native tongue.]
That’s not how the typical transaction goes in this country. [Try smiling.] She was also moving very slowly [like all those damn Mexicans, right?] at a busy time of year [like, what, Christmas? Kwanzaa? New Year’s? The Feast Day of the great third century Bishop and Martyr Saint Valentine? The Feast of Our Lady of Lourdes?] which was problematic because the long line wasn’t diminishing.” [Because they were having a good time speaking to each other and being human instead of fuming and crawling out of their skin? You’re just angry because you had to stand in line, right? Because no one else had a right to stand in line, right? Or are you really just racist? Or just a bad day? Lighten up. Jesus loves you too.]
Did I purposely write about Guadalupe Garcia de Rayos to guage reaction? Yes.
Don’t forget the purpose of this blog, noted by the title and blurb in the header:
“Arise! Let us be going!” which refers to Jesus’ command to the sleepy Apostles in the Garden of Gethsemane at the moment of the betrayal by Judas: “See, my betrayer is at hand.” That kind of sets the tone of intensity. But if anyone was mistaken about this, thinking that to just be pious piffle, the rest of it says:
Evangelizing the darkest of mankind’s existential peripheries that together we humbly thank the Lord. If you have good eyes, you can see a modern Hebrew script version of the motto of המוסד which is balanced by the death of our Lord and the Holy Spirit hovering over a scene of terrible violence between two societies.
There are some further words about goodness and kindness for the greater glory of God, something to do with the Jesuits, of which Pope Francis is one. I’m Catholic. And I’m a priest. I wan’t people to come to know Jesus, not just be comfortable in their mistaken ideas of who they think Jesus is.
Look. We’ve all crucified the Son of the Living God with original sin and our own personal rubbish. Smashing people down because they talk differently from you or just because they dress differently from you [more stylish!] won’t gain you many points at the final judgment. We’re hoping that people get to heaven, right? Eternity is a long time. Do you think they will want YOU there, ragging on them all the time, fuming about them? What if Jesus says “Shalom!” to someone else there, or to you? Will you throw a tantrum then?
And if you want to know my generalized impression of illegal immigrants, I’ll tell you, even though these are generalizations and therefore “racist”: I find that as a whole, these are the hardest working, most polite, piously Catholic, family oriented, peace loving, community minded, always but always helpful people I have known in my life. And I’ve been on so many continents and so many countries in so many cultures. And I also have an anecdote. Be warned of provocative language:
There was a young woman here who broke up with her white trash American boyfriend, who was always drugged up and always beating on her, leaving her a smashed up wreck continuously. Her father heard that she had started dating a Mexican and was planning on getting married to him. The father immediately was enraged and hunted down the Mexican so as to beat the living tar out of him. Of course, he instead got the living tar beat out of him, because he just kept up the attack, but he kept getting pummeled, rightly, in self-defense, until an ambulance had to come. The EMT guy reprimanded the father to say that his daughter had lived a living hell with her white trash boyfriend, but was treated like a queen by the Mexican guy, who, in fact, was born in these USA and is an American citizen in good standing. We just need to slow down a bit. Changing circumstances can show us a bit about ourselves, and that’s a good thing. It’s then an occasion to be closer to the Jesus, the Way, Truth and Life. And that’s a good thing. We’re not against each other! We’re against the devil who wishes to work havoc among us.
Lord Jesus, have mercy on us.
Saint José Luis Sánchez del Río, soldier and martyr, pray for us.
Anyway, I want a sombrero like our Cristero saint above. I’m envious. But no frills:
Saint Paul summarizes this well: “As long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord.” It is a mistake to get used to certain places in the sense of pretending to enjoy a kind of security by way of familiarity, for this is also what Ecclesiastes, Qoheleth, the Preacher, would say is vanity. Vanity of vanities! All is vanity! We must be ready to leave even the body at any moment whatsoever to go to be with the Lord. We had better not congratulate ourselves in our “security”, the eat, drink and be merry thing.
Guadalupe Garcia de Rayos, her crime being that she is without proper papers, but having been here for decades, having raised a family (two now teen-aged children with a husband), who worked, paid taxes, stayed within the rules of checking in with ICE every six months, being totally within the present system of becoming documented, a productive, peaceful, contributing member of American society, was arrested when she followed the rules of checking in with ICE, and, without letting her even say goodbye to her family, was immediately deported, going to who knows where in Mexico, leaving her family with an uncertain future.
ICE said that they would “continue to focus on identifying and removing individuals with felony convictions who have final orders of removal issued by the nation’s immigration courts.” But, obviously, she was purposely chosen, precisely because she is totally innocuous, to be an example of what is now happening, again, not because of the refugee Executive Order, but because of the mostly southern border Executive Order, two different things altogether.
People are all a flurry about the refugee Executive Order, not mentioning that effectively the Obama Administration basically barred Christians from being refugees. That ban effects relatively speaking a tiny percentage of people. Meanwhile, the immigration Executive Order could effect tens of millions, who, mind you, are almost all Catholic.
Anyway, a Mexican priest friend, now an American citizen, told me that he is telling his Mexican countrymen to pack up and go back to Mexico. Perhaps they will have just enough time to sell their homes and immovables so that they don’t lose absolutely everything. He said that it’s still possible simply to load up a huge trailer and go across the border to Mexico. This is the way to avoid one’s family being split up. Think of the nightmare. Are they undocumented? Yes. But they work within the system at the invitation of the system, right? You just can’t say: “I heard that el Chapo is mean, so therefore the Mexicans are all like him.” Goodness. These are your neighbors!
One of our law enforcement officers with 25 years experience as a LEO, and a member of the parish here in Western North Carolina, told me a few days ago that if this Executive Order on immigration is actually enforced, he fears major disruptions in these United States.
Remember, it’s no longer the Priorities act (catch and release). Everything goes back to (1) the Secure Communities act under which Obama deported some three million Mexicans. Add to this (2) unlimited profiling and (3) the use of local law enforcement as directed by the Executive Order and you have a recipe for mayhem.
Some background on the Executive Order on Immigration: