Today Passionists remember the 26 Martyrs of Daimiel. They were a community of Passionist priests and brothers who were killed because they were Catholic religious during the Spanish Civil War in 1936. Most of them were students, between the ages of 18 and 21. You can read about their martyrdom at: http://www.thepassionists.org/Martyrs.html
Earlier in 1936, one of the martyrs, Blessed Niceforo Diez, C.P., Provincial Superior in Spain, passed through the United States on his way back to Spain from Mexico. Mexico, at the time was still in the throes of revolution. He stopped in Union City, NJ where the editor of the Passionist magazine, THE SIGN asked him to write a few lines about his impressions on the situation of the Church in Mexico. The article was published in the August 1936 issue. The editors didn’t know that Niceforo had already been martyred in Spain when the magazine went to press.
In memory of Blessed Niceforo and the other Martyrs of Daimiel, we share his article I Entered Mexico with you today.
At last, after very much traveling, I am back at our beautiful monastery, here in Zaragoza. Now I am able to fulfill my promise to write a few lines describing my recent visit to Mexico.
I would like to tell of Mexico’s enchanting beauty. I should like to picture the richness with which nature has adorned it, for of all the countries I have visited, none has been endowed more generously. I would like to speak of the moral qualities of the Mexican people. Unfortunately, I cannot now go into detail on these things, yet some idea of them may creep into what I write.
The intense suffering to which the Mexican people are being subjected day after day, recalls those words of the prophet Jeremiah: “The walls of Sion mourn, because there are none that come to the solemn feast: all her gates are torn down; her priests sigh; her virgins are in affliction, and she is oppressed with bitterness. Her adversaries are become her lords, her enemies are enriched.” This was my dominant impression when I returned to Mexico after an absence of ten years.
I arrived at Vera Cruz the second of April, on board the steamer “Orizaba” of the Ward Line. Fortunately, the immigration officials did not know I was a priest. If they had, I would have been forced to return at once to Spain without so much as entering the country, for as you know, a priest may not enter Mexico even as a tourist. Realizing that international law and moral right gave me powers which the arbitrary statutes of the present day rulers of Mexico cannot take away. I had no hesitation about eluding their vigilance. At five o’clock in the afternoon, I had disembarked from the ship and was safely within the city.
I took a room at the Central Hotel. Leaving my luggage there, I set out for the parish church to pay a visit to the Blessed Sacrament. Years before, I had exercised the sacred ministry in that church. Now, when I visited it, I found it closed and locked. I was able to guess the reason why.
Near the entrance to the church was a stand where fruits and refreshments were sold. I approached the proprietress, and began a conversation with her in order to discover her religious sympathies and to learn anything that might aid me in my search.
“How early the churches close here,” I remarked.
“Did you wish to enter?” was her reply.
“Yes madam. I am a Catholic, and I should like to enter the church.”
“Well you can see for yourself how things are. Neither in this city or in the whole state is there a church open. What do you think of that?” The tone of deep sorrow with which these words were spoken convinced me that here was a fervent Catholic to whom I could safely reveal my identity.
“Look here,” I said. “Although I am dressed as a layman, I am really a priest.”
“Ah, Father, I thought as much. You have the face of a priest.”
It is difficult for a priest to conceal himself from a Mexican. The Mexican Consul in “N….” had shown a similar ability to recognize my priestly character, even though my passport gave no hint of my identity. His intuition had made my entrance into the country somewhat difficult; the religious intuition of this humble fruit seller, on the other hand, helped me to discover and set out to find – a place where the Blessed Sacrament was reserved and where I would be able to say Mass.
Following the directions she gave me, I arrived at a certain house in the city. After a long and careful investigation, they were convinced of my identity, and permitted me to enter. They led me to a certain room in the house. What a sight met my eyes as I entered that little room. A feeling of the deepest awe came over me. I shall never forget that moment. It was a quarter of eight in the evening – yet here were men, women and children receiving Our Lord in Holy Communion. Their attitude of deepest reverence gave me some idea of what that Communion meant to them.
On the very day on which this took place, the police had seized sixty people and imprisoned them. The charge against them was that they had prayed and sung hymns at the grave of their priest, who had a short tome before, been mercilessly shot down as he taught catechism to the children in the parish church. What a “crime” I had witnessed, when seeing the group of people receiving Communion in the inner room of that house!
During my month’s stay in Mexico, I visited the four monasteries that had been ours. I found one of them converted into a barracks; another was being used as a post-office; a third was being used as a house of correction for boys and girls; half of the fourth monastery was being used by our religious. At one time, the whole of this last had been occupied by soldiers, the church alone being left intact. After some years, however, they vacated a part of the monastery, and this I found to be at present in the possession of our religious. The church is still open, and our Fathers exercise their ministry in the nearby towns with great spiritual fruit.
In some states of Mexico, the government shows a certain amount of religious tolerance. In these places, some or even most of the churches are allowed to be open and the faithful attend them in throngs. Even private houses in certain sections are used as places of public worship, although the laws on the statute books decree that such houses are to be confiscated by the government – no one knows when these laws will be enforced. There are other states in which the laws against religion are carried out to the letter. Not a single church is open to the faithful, and no religious service of any kind may be performed either in private or in public.
In the whole of Mexico, there is one program that is being carried out with feverish anxiety. It is the government’s diabolical attempt to de-Christianize the youth of the nation. It is only by success in this endeavor that the government can hope to make its work permanent. It realizes that there is always the possibility that it will be driven from power before it can succeed. For this reason, it enforces its antireligious and its sexual education laws with the greatest rigor. For this reason, too, all the religious schools, whether conducted by natives or foreigners, have been deprived of any real influence over the youth of the nation. The educational program is so atheistic and immoral that teachers who have been engaged in educational work for twenty, forty, or even fifty years have been forced to abandon their careers, even though this leaves them without a position and without any means of livelihood. They cannot in conscience co-operate in such education, yet the government makes such co-operation the condition of exercising the teaching profession in Mexico.
Teachers in Mexico, who have any sense of moral responsibility, are cruelly persecuted by the government. However, even those teachers who agree to help the government in its nefarious undertaking do not find their work any too pleasant. Parents have made protests to the government – but the protests have been utterly in vain. Hence, they have been driven, in certain cases, to take matters into their own hands. They have punished the corruptors of their children in the way that they felt to be fitting. In certain places these enraged parents cut off the ears of many of the government teachers, while other teachers have counted themselves fortunate to escape with their lives. Not so long ago, the capitol witnessed a demonstration by these earless teachers seeking help from the government.
During my stay in Mexico, I witnessed many a heart-breaking scene. Directly or indirectly, I came into contact with countless tragedies. I sorrow for these suffering people, but at the same time I am filled with the deepest admiration for their heroism, generosity and religious spirit. Mexico is still a religious country. It is determined to remain religious, and it is prepared to pay the price that will be exacted on it. It is deserving of happier days.
Pray that the hour of religious liberty may soon arrive. Pray that the minority that rules Mexico may not succeed in driving religion from the vast majority of their fellow-countrymen who still are Catholics.
