The Missions: San Francisco and San José

Unless the mission is oriented by charity, that is, unless it springs from a profound act of divine love, it risks being reduced to mere philanthropic and social activity...Consequently, being missionaries means loving God with all one's heart, even to the point, if necessary, of dying for him. - Pope Benedict XVI

11:47 pm: comfortably asleep, after a full church for the Mass of the Lord's Supper, i awaken to a riot. i don't know what else you would call 100 drunk people screaming and clapping and yelling in front of the police station, which is in front of the church, which is next to the rectory. a young man had been "put in jail" for supposedly breaking into a local barber shop and stealing an amplifier and a couple of huge speakers (which belonged to the parish and were on loan and now reside somewhere in haiti, but that's neither here nor there). my guess is that one of the local einsteins who felt ultra-brave had rallied the rest of the bar and felt they could free the kid if they hollared loudly enough. nevertheless, the crack police staff, which at this point was greatly out-numbered, was relieved when the mayor showed up and started yelling at the people to disperse and leave us in all in peace. so there i was, standing inside the gate of the rectory with our night-watchman, patricio, both of us invisible in the shadows, when someone, another alcohol induced hero, shoots a gun and scares the dickens out of all of us. fortunately, that sobered them up enough and they decided to depart. i suspect they were just thirsty and had run out of liquid courage, but i guess i'll find out in the morning. i can hear them faintly in the backround, having roused the local population of roosters. happy Good Friday, looks like it'll be a doosy...

12:15 am: going back to bed.


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