Mercedes

Not Benz...

Thursday was a national and religious holiday, La fiesta de Nuestra Señora de las Mercedes, the Feast of our Lady of Mercedes. There is a story to go with the celebration, which I should know, but don´t. However, the general gist of the day is that St. Mary is a special patroness and protectress of the Dominican Republic and its people. (Something like Guadalupe, patroness of Mexico, for example)

Since it was a school holiday, and people planned to be in church anyway, Fr. Hipólito decided to make it a baptismal day. To my great surprise, he asked me to officiate and preach. I felt humbled and honored.

It was unclear up until the very last moment exactly how many children would be baptized, but it turned out that there were seven. The oldest was about 14, the youngest about 4. Some of the children I recognized from the catechism classes, some I didn´t. The oldest one has been one of the real helpers and leaders of the group, and I was actually surprised that she wasn´t baptized -- until I learned that her drug-addicted mother abandoned her, her father´s whereabouts are unknown, and she lives with her grandmother, who apparently is not too involved in the child´s life. That´s the kind of neighborhood where Cristo Salvador is located, and what the lives of many are like. It is really a blessing for this youngster to have the church in her life, and to have a Christian family to take the place of her birth family. As it turned out, Fr. Hipólito and his wife, Dulcina, served as the girl´s godparents -- they were just as kind and solicitous to her as if she were their own.

The church was fuller than I have ever seen it, and many were visitors, and a good number of those were illiterative. That, plus the fact that there were only a very few prayerbooks to go around, I was wondering how the service would go. Fr. Hipólito instructed me to do things just the way I would at my own church, but too late to arrange for an ersatz aspergillium (the water sprinkling thingamajig I use at the end of the baptismal service to get everyone wet. It´s the same thing that some of the altar guild members call the ´the asparagrasser´. Anyway, nobody got drenched either before, during, or after the service.)

The gospel asppointed for the day was the wedding at Cana of Galilee, and I used it as an opportunity to speak about the ¨miracle¨ of baptism, and the change that it brings about. It was actually a pretty straightforward (for me) reflection, though I did put some emphasis on Mary´s work in bringing her request to Jesus as PRAYER, and how she continues to intercede today (for those about to be baptized, for the church, for the country of which she is patroness).

One surprise, for me, was that Fr. Hipólito´s son, also a priest named Hipólito, came for the service with his wife and three children. Hipolito, Jr. is a fine musician, who plays guitar and has a terrific singing voice. He provided some background for the various choruses that the people sing, which was a real treat for them, because their music is always sung without instrumental accompaniment (well, there are percussion instruments, but no piano, organ, or guitar). He also sang a couple of songs by himself, and he has an excellent high tenor voice. Evidently he has recorded a CD of his music, which I would like to get my hands on before I leave.

Those who have attended a baptism at St. Peter´s know that I make a fairly big deal about the pouring of water into the font. There is good reason for this: baptism is a symbolic washing, not a symbolic dry cleaning, so the water needs to be seen and heard splashing around. Now -- the baptismal font at Cristo Salvador looks like a sink, mounted on a sort of pedestal. In fact, it probably is a sink. And the church does not own anything so elegant as a large ewer for the water, so instead I resorted to pouring the baptismal water from an old plastic Dasani bottle.

As soon as I went to pour the water, with all the splashing and attendant drama, it immediately began draining from the font: I was trying to say the prayer of blessing over the water while holding my hand over the hole through which the water was flowing out. By the time I finished the prayer there was about a half-teaspoon of water in the baptismal font. So much for dramatic symbolism. For some reason, I had reserved about a half-cup in the old water bottle, and with that, the deed was done. I believe that theologically speaking, it was still a valid sacrament.

And anyway, it was a joyful sacrament. So many smiles, so much laughter, so many tears. What a privilege to be able to be there at that moment.

And what a privilege that St. Peter´s was able to participate in a very special way. Shortly before I left, I was given a donation for Cristo Salvador that had been collected by the preK and Kindergarten Sunday School class. It was a relatively modest amount of money, but I know that a little bit can go a very long way here. I had decided to do something special with that money, so I gave it to the women of the church, who used it to create something that we in the US take for granted -- food and drink after church. The crowd was large, but the food made a huge impact -- there was hot chocolate (really good Dominican style, sweet and spicy with cinnamon and cloves) a banana, and a roll for everyone. You cannot imagine the impact that having a bit of food after the service made, and you wouldn´t believe the gratitude and wonder of the people. Thank you, thank you, thank you, pre-K and Kindergarten class. You really blessed many people that day. BTW, I also made three platters of finger sandwiches (a very ambitious undertaking in my miniscule kitchen) which I wanted to share as a sort of typical food that we serve on special occasions. Most Dominicans are flabbergasted that we have coffee and refreshments after every Sunday morning service.

Later in the day, I was invited to a festive meal with the Fathers Hipólito and their families. His son and daughter were there, with the daughter-in-law Lilian, and their three children, and Lilian´s mother Paulina. What a blessing to have conversation with the clergy and their wives (in Spanish) after the meal. The diocese of the Dominican Republic is not an independent province of the Anglican communion, but is a member of the same Epicopal Church of which we are members. We talked about the actions of the recent General Convention, the state of the American Church, and the challenges of forming Christians for ministry in our different cultural contexts. It was a rich and rewarding afternoon, which concluded with an invitation for me to preach and celebrate at Hipólito, Jr´s church in San Francisco de Macoris.

The last Sunday I was at St. Peter´s before leaving for sabbatical the opening hymn was Alleluia, Sing to Jesus which has that wonderful line about ´Jesus out of every nation has redeemed us by his blood.´ I had a real-life experience of that on Thursday, at La Fiesta de Nuestra Señora de las Mercedes.