by Reverend Hector L. Bolduc
In this second installment of a three-part series Father Bolduc recounts
the thrilling adventures of His Grace the Archbishop among
traditional Catholics south of the border.
NOT FAR from the city of Tlaxiaco several beautiful Dominican churches and monasteries, dating from Spanish colonial days, are to be found. These magnificent edifices are a tribute to the deep-rooted faith of the Mexican people. Once flourishing religious communities, teeming with life and caring for the spiritual and material needs of thousands of natives, these churches now stand largely neglected and in ruin. The anti-Catholic revolution sought to destroy the Church and Christianity, but succeeded in enslaving the Mexican people under a totalitarian government as cruel and repressive as that of Soviet Russia and other Communist states.
Few Americans seem to know of the bloody persecutions which raged in Mexico from 1917 until 1939, when hundreds of thousands of Catholics were hunted down and slaughtered, their only crime being that they were Catholic. The anti-Christian Masonic government which arose as a result of the revolution is the most repressive Marxist government in the Western Hemisphere.1 As in Russia, there are mock elections with one candidate, who automatically replaces his predecessor. The president of Mexico must be a Mason; all press is controlled by the government and bribery and payoffs are the order of the day. The Church is tolerated (even encouraged, now that it has become Communist-oriented) only to keep the faithful peasants placated. Not only is a priest (and all other religious) prevented from wearing religious garb in public; he is forbidden to express political opinions and can be arrested at any time without specification of charges, and is never granted the luxury of a trial by jury.
When it came time to leave Tlaxiaco, we returned to the Church of San Sebastian, where we had been welcomed on our arrival. There the Archbishop led the faithful in reciting the Rosary. Our departure was as tumultuous as our entry, with thousands of the faithful accompanying the Archbishop's motorcade through the heart of the city. Despite the efforts of the police, the Archbishop's car was barely able to creep through the crush of people. It was only when the momentum of the crowd slowed because of sheer exhaustion that we were finally able to proceed at a normal speed.
Our next stop was Cordoba (in the Southeast, between Puebla and Vera Cruz), where we had made arrangements to visit a number of traditional Catholics in outlying areas. Hordes of newsmen were on hand for our "secret" arrival. The police constantly tried to prevent the Archbishop from meeting with the crowds that awaited him. The reason they gave was security and concern for the Archbishop's life. This was difficult to understand, when the police gave the press every minute detail of our itinerary, including the make, model, color and license number of our car, all of which appeared on the front page of the national papers. One can hardly understand how the publication of such information could lead to greater protection of the Archbishop. The police spent hours on the telephone each day, giving detailed reports of our every movement. A typical day's report would be as follows: 'The Archbishop left the breakfast table at 8:23 this morning. For breakfast he had one egg, two slices of toast, one piece of fruit, one glass of orange juice, and one cup of coffee. With him at the table were ... etc., etc., etc." Sometimes these telephone conversations would go on uninterrupted for two or three hours. At times it was impossible for us to use our own telephones.
In Cordoba the people were no less fervent than those on our previous stops. The Archbishop made frequent trips to various homes to celebrate Mass and to confirm. Other priests visited villages in outlying areas, talking to the people and celebrating Mass.
The Mexicans especially wanted holy cards and rosaries. Many a missal, prayer book and breviary was depleted of holy cards in our efforts to provide these people with a representation of the Blessed Mother, Christ or the saints.
Contact with these people was especially rewarding as we found many young men and women who obviously have vocations and who needed spiritual guidance to fulfill their calling.
Archbishop Lefebvre showed a tremendous capacity for patience during the grueling trip. Never did he tire of giving blessings, signing holy cards, giving interviews or comforting the old or the young. He always made certain to seek out and bless the young. Any baby who came within his reach or sight was sure to receive a personal blessing. There were times when we knew the Archbishop was fatigued from a long day on his feet. We often tried to discourage additional requests by the faithful to spare him and allow him some rest. One evening when a group of peasants arrived quite late, asking to see the Archbishop, we flatly refused to disturb him. He had already retired to his room and was saying his breviary. On hearing the commotion, he asked what it was about, and learning that we had turned the group away, he sent us after them and was waiting in the courtyard to greet and bless them when we returned. Few will ever know the great joy this gave these peasants nor the great sacrifice it cost the Archbishop.
One afternoon, using a borrowed truck, Fathers Michel Faure, Regis Babinet and myself drove to a remote, nearly inaccessible village named Dos Rios. Cordoba is a mountainous, lush tropical area, famous for its coffee. The rainfall is frequent and heavy and the roads narrow and treacherous. We drove on and on through back roads that were little more than ruts with steep mountains on one side and deep gorges on the other. At one point we went through low areas where the wheels were more than half-covered with water. We arrived at the little village in the absence of the local priest. Our arrival was announced by the ringing of the church bell, which quickly brought the faithful to the church. After they were assembled, Father Faure gave them a talk on the Mass and the sacraments, pointing out the dangers of the new ways and exhorting them to remain faithful to the traditional teachings of the Church. Afterwards all went to the church, where the rosary was recited. Then we started the long trip back, promising to return.
WE WERE ABLE to obtain daily papers, which constantly kept us amazed at the latest absurdity dreamed up by the government, to try and distort or downplay the importance of the Archbishop's visit. When several thousand people turned out to see him, it was reported as a mere handful. It was interesting to read that the Archbishop and the Society catered to the rich, while we were sweltering in small villages in remote areas, living under the most primitive conditions. In one place that had no running water, the faithful formed bucket brigades to carry water one mile up a hill to our quarters. The hot days often gave way to hotter, more humid nights, and the lack of screens and even windows made the fighting off of insects a constant battle. One night Father Babinet found a deadly scorpion in his bed. The fact that a second scorpion was seen in the room and escaped into a crack in the wall before it could be killed, did not make sleeping any easier.
It was curious to read also that the Archbishop had "entered Mexico illegally," when in fact he held a valid visa good for ninety days and had entered like any other tourist.
When the Archbishop stated at a press conference that the answer for the poor of Mexico did not lie with Communism, it was reported the following day in bold print that Archbishop Lefebvre said the answer for the poor of Mexico lies with Communism. They conveniently left out the "does not."
When a crowd of thousands came to bid farewell to the Archbishop on his departure, the press reported that he had "fled from the town" and that he had been "driven out of town."
In a feeble attempt to justify the presence of dozens of government police to facilitate their surveillance of the Archbishop, the government reported that a group of commandoes, led by a woman, had arrived from the United States to assassinate the Archbishop. On another occasion they reported that the Archbishop had in fact been the "victim of an assassination."
In an effort to discredit the Archbishop, it was reported that the most Marxist hard-line bishop in Mexico had welcomed His Grace. On another occasion, a well-known group of leftists from Mexico City came to visit the Archbishop. I approached the government officials, who verified the background of these vermin but the government, in full control of the situation, would not prevent nor hinder them from coming. It is my belief that, far from discouraging them, the government actively assisted them.
The day finally arrived when we had to leave Cordoba, and we journeyed by car—escorted by the police—to Mexico City. On the outskirts of the city we were met by a very professional, elite group of police who were determined that, until our departure from Mexico, we should see as little of Mexico City as possible. We went directly to the airport and boarded a plane for Guadalajara. Hundreds of reporters were waiting at the airport and, although we were driven over the field to the door of the plane, we had to run the gauntlet of reporters, television cameras, etc.
Guadalajara was a welcome arrival. There we were met by friends of the Archbishop, Mr. and Mrs. Glenn Florance, who graciously opened their home in nearby Chapala to Archbishop Lefebvre and his party. The Society of St. Pius X has long enjoyed support in this area, and the Archbishop's visit there had been anticipated with great excitement.
As usual, the Archbishop won the hearts of the local people by his unannounced and very casual visits to the local marketplace, where Mexicans and Americans alike sought him out for a blessing and a word of encouragement. Also noted by the people was the fact that His Grace walked into a local barbershop for a haircut.
Large crowds gathered outside the house for a chance to see the Archbishop or to attend his daily Mass. The police were more evident than ever. Two stayed inside the house day and night, while others swarmed around the exterior of the property. An amusing incident happened concerning the police. Late one evening a car was observed approaching the house. While still some distance away the car's lights went out and the car parked along the dark street. One man stayed in the car while a second, moving very suspiciously, slipped into the shadows of nearby trees. Their actions had gone unnoticed by the ever "diligent" police. Having witnessed the whole affair, I sought out the police and sent them to investigate. They returned very soon and, much chagrined, reported that the suspicious characters were more secret police, sent to see if the regular police were doing their job!
Many were confirmed and baptized in Guadalajara. The Archbishop gave an excellent talk which brought hope and encouragement to all. Once more we discovered a number of prospective vocations. Much of the credit for this goes to the tireless missionary activities of Fathers Babinet and Faure, who, besides bringing the Mass and sacraments to the faithful, annually preach retreats and give conferences in these areas. The fruits of their labors will be seen in the native Mexican priests who will eventually return to their homes to minister to the faithful.
Leaving Guadalajara proved to be harder than our arrival. The government was determined that we should spend as little time as possible in the nation's capital. The night before our departure, lengthy telephone calls had gone back and forth from the police to Mexico City. The same continued the next morning and we found that our departure time from the house to the airport had been suddenly changed. It was changed several times during the morning, and when we arrived at the airport, we were told that we had arrived too late and would not be able to leave for Mexico City until late that evening. A quick check showed that our plane was still at the gate. We sat in our cars and watched it leave some time after our arrival at the airport. It was also evident that our delay was anticipated, as a large private van was ready to receive us in a secured part of the airport. The proof of the duplicity of the officials came later, when I inquired about our baggage, which had been taken to the airport ahead of us to be loaded on the plane. The police took our baggage check numbers and looked into the matter. They then informed us that our baggage was in Mexico City and would be kept there until we arrived. "Are you absolutely certain it is in Mexico City?" I asked a policeman. "Absolutely!" was the reply. "We checked each number against the tags of the bags being held there." After they had emphatically verified that our luggage was safe in Mexico City, I asked them to explain the fact that our bags were sitting in plain view on a cart not ten yards from where we were being detained. There were some hasty shouts and angry commands and the "bilocation baggage" was whisked out of sight.
Eventually we reached Mexico City and hurriedly put our delayed program into operation. Meetings and confirmations were in order, as well as visits to some of the historical and religious monuments of the city.
Our visit to the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe will long be remembered. The Archbishop was not feeling well, but he insisted on visiting the Shrine, to pray before the miraculous picture of Our Lady. The original shrine, a magnificent old basilica, is closed. A sign on the door announces that it will one day be re-opened as a museum. The similarity between this and what happens to shrines and churches in Communist countries of Europe is not coincidence.
We went to Guadalupe early in the morning to escape the heat and crowds. The new building, which has replaced the old, is the ultimate in ugliness. It looks like a cross between a gymnasium and a ski jump. It is mercifully void of religious symbolism. The only religious artifact it contains is the miraculous picture of Our Lady, which is placed far up on one wall—so high that it cannot clearly be seen by visitors. The faithful used to come and kneel reverently under the picture. To discourage this, moving sidewalks were installed directly beneath the picture. This makes it impossible for anyone to stop or kneel. Visitors are carried past the picture in a few seconds and have to crane their necks for a glimpse. As if by Divine Providence, the moving sidewalk apparatus was out of order, so we were able to walk beneath it. The Archbishop knelt and remained for a long time in prayer. We visited the gift shop and purchased two large reproductions of the miraculous image. After blessing them in the Shrine itself, the Archbishop autographed both, and placed two houses of the Society (St. Mary's College in St. Marys, Kansas and Jesus and Mary Chapel in El Paso, Texas) under the patronage of Our Lady of Guadalupe.
To be continued
1. The memory of the brave cristeros who defended the Faith with their lives, is still remembered and honored by the Mexican people.