A Sacred Gift

By Julia Duarte
October 2000

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(Translated from Spanish by Fr. Frank Hegel, SFM)

Every year on Holy Thursday the same desire overcomes me: how I wish I were a painter or a poet so that I could describe the impact which the Chrism Mass, celebrated every year in the cathedral of Riobamba, has on me.

All the pastoral agents who work in the diocese—priests, religious and lay missioners alike—gather around their bishop at this Mass. It is a tradition which goes back to the former bishop of Riobamba, Leonidas Proaño. The Mass is now celebrated by Bishop Victor Corral, the present bishop, with all the priests of the diocese concelebrating. It looks, in fact, no different from any other concelebrated Mass. However, there is a difference; the cathedral is filled with Indigenous people—campesinos (from the farming communities) who have arrived from remote areas in order to receive, from the hands of the bishop, the sacred Eucharist to carry back to their communities.

The Diocese of Riobamba does not have enough priests to meet the needs of the far-flung communities which dot the Province of Chimborazo. For this reason, there is a program to train Llacta michi (Eucharistic ministers) who come from the Indigenous communities. Their special formation in the faith is conducted with a view to provide their communities with ministers of the Word, Eucharistic ministers, and those who minister to the sick.

On Holy Wednesday, those who have been trained as Eucharistic ministers gather for a day-long retreat with the vicar for Indigenous. The purpose of the retreat is to prepare for and understand the grave responsibility that goes with carrying the Eucharist to their communities.

On entering the cathedral for the Chrism Mass one is immediately struck by the presence on the altar of the tiny wooden receptacles, each one suitably adorned, in which the Eucharist will be transported. At the conclusion of the Mass, the bishop calls by name each Eucharistic minister who then approaches the altar to receive the sacred vessels which carry the just consecrated Eucharist. Only a painter or poet can describe the joy on their faces together with the solemnity and reverence with which they approach the bishop.

The Mass concludes with a procession headed by the Llacta michi, and a social gathering on the patio of the cathedral, after which each one departs for his or her respective communities, parishes or pastoral work.

Meanwhile the communities from which the Llacta michi have come are busy preparing for the arrival of their Eucharistic minister. The main street is cleaned spotless. Archways constructed of palms are strategically placed along the route to the church or chapel. Local musicians are rehearsing their numbers on old, beat up, but still functioning instruments. The entire populace is gathered in a hushed expectancy, awaiting the arrival of their Eucharistic minister. In some cases this involves a considerable delay as the journey represents many hours on foot due to the lack of roads.

Finally, the traditional horn along with other musical instruments announce the minister’s arrival. Everyone joins in the procession to the church and remains in prayer before the altar which contains the tabernacle, the home to the Body of Christ for the next three days. During these days the community will receive, from the hands of their own Eucharistic minister, this Body of Christ, a gift they receive once a year. They are exhorted to become, as a community, the living reality of what they receive.

These Llacta michi are both men and women. They are selected by their communities for their merits and preparation. They take on this grave responsibility with due seriousness for what it implies. It is a job not taken lightly. And that is as it should be.

Scarboro’s Ecuador team is made up of Fr. Frank Hegel and lay missioners Eric Lagacé and Julia Duarte. Julia serves along with her husband Tom Walsh and their children.

Carolyn Beukeboom, who just completed her missionary training, will be joining the team after language study in Bolivia.

ECUADOR

An evening with Victor Hugo

By Eric Legace
October 2000

One of my best friends in Riobamba is Victor Hugo. No, he is not a famous author, he did not write Les Miserables, but he makes the best darned fruit juices in Riobamba, and possibly in all of Ecuador. Victor is the owner of a small restaurant called Hugo’s. (The name is very similar to jugos, the Spanish word for juices.) I have made it a regular stop on my way back from work. There, I order a glass of freshly squeezed fruit juice or a hot cup of cappuccino.

Apart from the great juices, it is really the conversation I go for. Sitting at the counter, Victor Hugo and I discuss history, sports, politics. We talk about Ecuador, Canada, Latin America, Asia, and all of the various problems confronting the world. We analyse, we criticize, and we offer solutions. By the end of the night we’ve re-invented the world and solved all of its problems.

At times, some of the other customers join in the fray and heated arguments ensue. Everyone shares their opinions; some opinions cause uproar while others get a general consensus. By the end of the night I’ve made a bunch of new friends and I always go home having learned something new.

Victor has given me new insights on the Ecuadorian culture and the way Ecuadorians think and act. It has helped me a great deal in understanding the people and getting used to the way things work around here. With Victor, I also share my moments of joy and sadness, my frustrations and my hopes. All the while, Victor plays the role of a good host, listening to my stories and offering honest advice.

Although he may not be a literary genius like his famous namesake, Victor Hugo of Riobamba has been a great friend and confidant and has made my stay in Riobamba all the more worthwhile.

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