sermon delivered by our Postulate on World Worship Sunday

in which she shares with us her experiences on the Mission of Miracles to El Salvador

Me llammo Dr. Julia. Habla pequito Espanol. Pequito. My name is Dr. Julia. I speak a little Spanish, a little. A translator will tell me what you say and then she will tell you what I say. And so our journey, our mission of miracles begins-haltingly and only with interpreters- someone translates our conversations about vision, tooth aches, ear pain and fevers. Or more intimate tales of war trauma, drownings during the rainy season (children who lost their mother's hand in the flood) and losses after the earthquake this past December. Stories of the brave women's group of San Juan Evangelist who are planning two new business ventures with our help, one-painting priest's stoles with symbols of their country (like Jenny is wearing today) and another group of women in a rural community who are learning to make soaps.

Remembering his dismay on the first day "Mom, I can't do this. People think I am traductor because you told them I can speak Spanish. Now they are asking me to tell folks to wait here, go there and stand in this line and I can't do it. Why did you say that Mom, are you loco? Mi Mami esta loca. There are too many of them and they all want their picture taken." He put the camera away in disgust and walked away in frustration.

But by Day Two at El Maizal, one of the poorest villages we visited, children are following him in herds. We are setting up the opthamology clinic in a small airless room with a dirt floor and concrete walls in the only building this community has. He is helping Mya fill his bag with empty aluminum cans. Finding readers for a 60 year old woman and explaining to her when she said she could not see "Es par aver de cerca. No est par aver de lejos." These are for near vision, not far.

"Owen, otra photo." So Owen takes his digital camera and shoots a video as they jump up, sticking out their tongues mimicking his face. He shows them the movie and they laugh and giggle together. Seeing themselves, what they actually look like, perhaps for the first time. Transfiguracion. Illuminacion.

And in that moment, all were transfigured. Their faces lightened and their hearts illuminated. "Una mas. Otra Owen, otra photo. Vitamina. Regaleme un cepillo de dientes. I need a tooth brush, vitamins. "Una mas." But the long lines have dwindled, and it is time to go and we all left saying no mas, Adios. No more, goodbye.

Many believe that the Bible tells stories of long ago, recording history. But I often see the stories of the Bible recording my daily life. The message of scripture, particularly today's scripture readings, is based on the idea of Metanoia, the change of heart that happens when we meet God face-to-face. Religion, at it's best is about change. Last week, I was lucky enough to walk up the mountain top, witness and be part of my son's illuminacion. See his face shine with the people of El Salvador in transfiguracion. Faces shining in new light. As Paul tells us so eloquently in the King James version of his letter to the Corinthians, so these three, faith, hope and charity. but the greatest of these is charity.

Jesus es en Senor. Jesus is my Lord. The people of El Salvador chant this in their worship and put it on the back of their pickup trucks and storefronts. They display this sign proudly and faithfully-sure that it is true despite all they lack materially. Jesus es en Senor -even if I don't have running water, a toilet or a neon pair of sunglasses. May God working in us do more than we can ever ask or imagine. May we heal first ourselves and then others despite our human natures. In the name of our Creator, Redeemer and Sanctifier.

Amen