Copyright © 1999 NLThomas
All Rights Reserved

Chiapas, Mexico - On December 22, 1997, 45 members of Las Abejas (The Bees), a pacifist indigenous group, were killed by paramilitary troops as they fasted and prayed for peace in the small village of Acteal, in the highlands of Chiapas, Mexico. Most of those killed were women and children. Many had recently fled from other communities because of threats of violence. Now, two years later, our CPT team and many of the Abejas were in the final hours of another three-day fast. We were praying that manipulations in the appointment of a successor to the recently retired bishop, Samuel Ruiz, who was unabashedly on the side of the poor, would not result in repression of priests and catechists who are so instrumental in raising a voice for peace and justice in places like Acteal.

As I fasted, I thought of the women and their children who had gathered in the small chapel here two years ago. The community had decided to respond to threats of paramilitary violence with earnest prayer and fasting, instead of flight. Early in November of this year, rumors of a new spate of violence surfaced, and the people of Acteal again responded with fasting and prayer. In the midst of poverty, displacement and violence, a spirituality that has made prayer a natural response to impending crises has held this community together.

This day, December 22, an estimated 2000 people crowded into the open-air chapel in Acteal and onto the surrounding hillsides that were basking in sunlight after an earlier rain shower. Soon, mock "paramilitaries" with wooden rifles broke the tranquil atmosphere, dousing a small house-like structure with gasoline, igniting it and creating an explosion of firecrackers. The dark-suited troops fled after doing their destruction, and small white flags appeared, waved by scores of people on the hillsides and the priests in the front. The Choir of the Displaced broke out in a song of peace. Tears came to my eyes as I imagined what emotions would be aroused in people who had actually survived a paramilitary attack and lost loved ones, and as the white flags signaled strength and hope and new life. Following the three hour mass, solemnity gave way to dancing and feasting, and music from five bands continued without ceasing all afternoon and into the night.

I was more than a little jolted by the celebratory atmosphere of the day's events. After all, the occasion was the anniversary of one of the most horrible episodes in the history of the recent conflict in Chiapas. The community of Acteal was devastated; virtually everyone had lost loved ones -- wives, children, or friends. You don't celebrate the anniversary of a massacre. Or do you?

Two years ago, Acteal was unknown to the world. The people were in fear, having fled violence in their home communities. There were no internationals present for protection or documentation; no photos recorded the magnitude of the slaughter. Today, hundreds of people were waving white flags on the sun-filled hillside. Many foreigners were the eyes and ears of the world. Music, dancing, and feasting testified to the resilience of life. Words of hope were proclaimed from the pulpit. Not to say that the massacre was good. Most assuredly not! It was a tremendous individual and communal tragedy that still scars the people of Acteal. But God has a way of turning sorrow into joy, death into resurrection.

Here, three days before Christmas, I thought of the Advent prophecies. In the words of Isaiah (61:1-3): "The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me ... to place on those who mourn a crown instead of ashes; the oil of gladness in place of mourning; a glorious mantle instead of a listless spirit. They will be called 'oaks of justice', planted by the Lord to show his glory." (Is. 61:1-3). Today, this scripture was fulfilled in our hearing.