A Spiritual Journey of Hidden Beauty
A Pilgrimage to Guaymas, Sonora, Mexico
“We are encouraged to see ourselves as pilgrims and strangers on the earth, temporary residents whose true home is in heaven.”
1 Peter 2:11; Hebrews 11:13
I knew early on that I had a purpose in life and have been on a journey since my youth to find exactly what I was meant to do while on this earth. In recent years the reason why I am here at this time has been becoming clearer to me.
My life has been full of love, great comfort, and wealth. However, I was becoming complacent and then 2020 happened and the world shut down. I realized late in that year, I needed to move forward in another direction as many others felt during this time. I sold most of my belongings and sold my house. Since then, I have been a nomad on a journey of diving deep into my soul to discover what it is that I am to do. To do for humankind.
During this Lent of 2023, I made a commitment to finding exactly what I am meant to do in the winter of my life. I believe in miracles, and we are shown our path once we ask for guidance. I received my ‘miracle’ guidance when I was praying at Saint Mary’s Basilica, Phoenix, Arizona during mass. My prayers lead me to travel on a pilgrimage with a group of pilgrims to the Casa Franciscana Mission, in Guaymas, Sonora, Mexico.
I have been asked to write about the pilgrimage talking about the beauty we as pilgrims saw in the hearts and souls of the Guaymas people. Here are not only my words but also words from some of the pilgrims.
“A pilgrimage is a journey to some sacred place as an act of religious devotion. A pilgrim is more than a tourist; a pilgrimage is more than a journey. A pilgrim travels with a spiritual purpose, and a goal to be closer to God.”
JEREMIAH 6:16:
You Go Into The Unknown
When I think “Mexico” what comes to mind is the beauty of its history, lush landscapes, resorts, beaches, food, and drinks. Instead, I experienced the greatest beauty of the country, and that is the people, living among the mountain ranges that dominate the interior. What I felt and saw was more important than the beauty of the land. I experienced the love of the Mexican people and saw their beauty in the midst of scarceness.
I have seen poor conditions in the United States and in some other countries. Mexico is not a stranger to having its share of the poor. During this pilgrimage, the pilgrims and I were able to get up close and personal. We visited their homes and heard their stories. And we saw first-hand what goes on in the daily lives of these people. The stories of these people do not get in the headlines and the areas we visited are rarely shown to the world.
The Neigbhorhoods in Guaymas, Sonora, Mexico
The Pilgrimage
This pilgrimage we went on was a service pilgrimage. A service pilgrimage is to go and do the needed tasks required by the mission. We traveled on this journey to a place by putting ourselves in an environment, to see and feel God’s presence. It was an opportunity to renew and deepen our spiritual growth and perform manual labor such as painting, serving meals, repairing buildings, and visiting people in need. We did this by traveling to an active Franciscan mission in Guaymas, Sonora, Mexico.
Our trip was led by three experienced Casa Franciscana Outreach (CFO) Board Members and frequent visitors to Guaymas. George Sabol, a 3rd Order Franciscan has traveled this path hundreds of times in the last 25 years; Francisco Lopez, a frequent traveler to the mission and current president of CFO who acted as translator; Mike Milinazzo, the current vice president has also traveled this route a few times; Victor Jose Jaimes who is closely involved with CFO came with the board members to assist and translate people's stories.
La Mision de San Xavier del Bac, Tucson, Ariziona Places we stopped along the way
In the month of March 2023, a group of 13 people set on a service pilgrimage, traveling from Casa Franciscana Outreach Service Mission, in Scottsdale, Arizona USA. The trip was a comfortable, eight to nine-hour van ride from Phoenix, Arizona, unless you count some of the back roads which got a bit bumpy. Those bumps in the road were nothing compared to the “bumps” (obstacles) many of the people live daily, in Guaymas, Sonora, Mexico.
On our first day, we traveled from Phoenix, Arizona to the City of Guaymas, Sonora. After a night of rest, we spent our second day with morning mass given by Fr. Martin Ibarra. Fr. Martin oversees the mission's operation with his team. He spent the entire time showing the pilgrims the mission's many works, explaining what services are given internally to the people in Guaymas. Since Covid, the mission started to externally support the brothers and sisters who cannot travel to the mission for support for their daily needs (also visits to indigenous people who have long been ignored by society.)
This pilgrimage was a time of transformation and fellowship for the pilgrims who journeyed to the Casa Franciscana Mission.
The Visitation
“The significance of visitation is about the need for us to humble ourselves so that we can serve everyone, not just those we like but even those we don’t like. If we are truly humble, our spirit of service would not make any discrimination among the people.”
Father Martin Ibarra
Fr Martin Ibarra’s sermon to the Pilgrims about the importance of the Blessed Mother Mary's visit to her cousin, Elizabeth. He spoke these words prior to the pilgrims visiting the people in Guaymas.
Fr Martin: “As we walk these days with you, the pilgrims, I don't know what is prepared for each one of you. I don't know. All I can say is that each of you is a blessing.
The Mission in Guaymas, we are not a place that one thinks to visit. No one, no one in the right mind would think to visit us. So, I am very happy that you are here with all of us at the Mission. Guaymas is not a place that anyone is thinking about.
The staff here suffer the same as the people in the area. No one comes and stays; no one wants to come.
We are not the best neighborhood and they're afraid of us. They're afraid that if they come, something might happen. However, you will see those who venture and have the courage to come. You will see, and I really hope, you will experience a different conception of BEAUTY.
God’s beauty is hidden all the time. With an open heart, we must begin to see the beauty which the world will never identify as beautiful.
Now that's why they don't come here. They don't see anything beautiful. There is nothing to see here, there is nothing so why visit?
Your visit is exactly like that of the visitation of Mary to her cousin Elizabeth.
When we see the beauty here, something awakens in us, the same as Elizabeth saw when Mary with child, came to visit.
And that's very similar to what today we are experiencing. Your visit is a blessing, and your blessing brings us so much hope and joy, the joy of seeing you coming to visit us.” Mary inspires us to live a life full of gratitude, generosity, compassion, and of passionate hope for the world.”
During this pilgrimage, I could see how my fellow pilgrims paid attention to what was said. We supported each other by giving ourselves to the Mission and to those they served. I saw compassion and understanding in the faces of the pilgrims becoming more aware of each and every moment, allowing us to feel and see joy and beauty no matter the circumstances.
“When one finds their path, they are meant to travel towards this path. It is then time to fully surrender to that new path, letting go of all thoughts, and ideas that no longer lift them up.”
The Grandmothers
Grandmother Dona Inez
On our second day, we traveled to three grandmothers' homes who lost their daughters to early death and who had young children that needed to be raised. Translated into English by Francisco Lopez is a story about our third visit to one of the grandmothers, Dona Inez.
Fr. Martin: A grandma who is taking care of her three grandchildren, is going to share with us what happened. And how she ended up taking care of her daughter’s children.
Grandmother: Well, my daughter got sick, and it was terminal. There was no solution. So, all of a sudden, I had three children to care for, this young lady here by my side, my granddaughter, and two boys, they're twins actually. So really it was a situation where all of a sudden, I was in charge of these children. The most important thing the mission does for us is to bring food to us, which helps tremendously. If I'm ever not feeling well, they have a doctor or a nurse, Sandra, that comes to see me.
Dona Inez
Grandmother of her daughters child at age 85.
Fr. Martin: This is only because of the volunteers that she and her grandchildren are able to receive support from the mission. This is not right. It's not, it's not right. One thing that we have developed, and this is for our elders who are not able to go because there's no means to. She has no means to support them - how will she support them?
We received a visit from the neighbors who referred her to us. The neighbors, neighbors know them. The neighbors come to the Casa Franciscana Mission to share with us their needs. They come to Casa Franciscana Mission,and they share with us to have us take care of her and her grandchildren. See that's how we are here. When we drove up here, you see the roads? The roads are not easy to drive to this location and she has no way to get to the mission for support. We are blessed to have the ability to provide something so basic, so basic together with food. When medical attention is needed, Sandra is the nurse who comes. She comes when there are no doctors.
Grandmother: What I'm really worried about is my grandson, one of the twins is actually displaying violence. He's angry. I really don't know what to do with him as a grandmother. I'm at my wit's end. I don't know what to do.
Fr. Martin: And here is where we can do something to come. We will do what we can to try to find where his anger and his violence are coming from.
Grandmother: The grandson is five years old, and I am 85 and taking care of them.
La Bestia
On the third day of the pilgrimage, we visited the migrants who are traveling through Mexico to get to the United States for a better life. We stopped at “La Bestia” (The Beast), also known as “El Tren de la Muerte,” or “The Train of Death.” This is where the migrants travel on a freight train that starts its route in the southern part of Mexico, near the border of Guatemala.
This train ride connects with a network of Mexican freight trains heading to different points at the U.S. Border. This is a free form of travel that allows migrants to avoid numerous immigration checkpoints and detention centers. The risks are high, and many riders are left with life-altering injuries including death, their belongings are often stolen, and many are beaten along the way.
At this station, Fr. Martin and his team drove out to a stopping point in their truck, filled with clothes, water, and food for their continued journey. The streets were quiet around this spot with open sewerage running down the streets. Slowly some of the migrants started coming out to Fr. Martin and his team. What we saw on the migrant's faces was exhaustion, desperation, and of hunger. Some of the migrants had no shoes and walked barefoot through the sewage to get a few items of comfort along the way.
The Casa Franciscana Mission also gives necessary medical treatment care and rest before the migrants continuing journey.
Fr. Martin: “What is this place we are now at? This is called “La Bestia” (The Beast). Everyone knows of this place, “a Puente” (a bridge). We are at what is called kilometer two; two kilometers of train rail, it's two kilometers. Behind us is where the train stops at the station and the migrants then move to different locations. Where we are now, is one of the places that we stop at. Over there where the second station is. The second place we go is because we know that is where many of the migrants are.
Just in this last year, the government built all these fences, see all those barriers right there. They built all of that. Before we were able to go inside and go drive in the railroads in between them looking for our brothers and sisters because of them hiding. Remember anyone who has reached this point has been on “The Beast” for two months on those trains. So, they are already sick. They are sick, they are already emotionally tired, psychologically tired, and physically tired. They are malnourished which is visible and they're coming already with different illnesses. The numbers that are coming this way, are less as they go. As the migrants travel, their numbers get less and less. The numbers are getting less because they go different routes. Unfortunately, a number of them die on their way.
So those who are passing by, don't want to stay. They're not planning to stay; they're not planning to look for anything else other than they're passing by. So, what we have learned is that they need food.
First and foremost; FOOD. They will need some kind of pain meds. They will need clothing, shoes, especially tennis shoes. These types of shoes you see on them are useless for them. It's tennis shoes that they need, and they really need a moment they can recuperate emotionally. Someone that will welcome them because they've been rejected all through, they've been rejected, they've been robbed, they've been beaten, they've been already attacked by the police, criminal groups, gangs, and all those places they've been already passing through. They've been coming in a very low mental state with a big load on their shoulders, an emotional load. And if they have reached this level, nothing will stop them, nothing. They will continue and they will go all the way where they need to go. So, what we do is, what we try to do is first and foremost attend to the most immediate need, which is food.
What we try to do is welcome them so that they see someone who is not trying to abuse them or attack them. That is why I wear my habit all the time because they do recognize the habit. I believe they can trust this group. We use the megaphone because we call them, and we say we are Casa. Because of the guards - see the train guard - they know us already. If they see people they will say: “Wait, someone will come with food”. They say they are calling you and they say: “ Casa Franciscana Mission.” When they hear that they come because we bring them food.
The migrants depend on the train. The trains could stay for 30 minutes to 3 hours to an entire day. So that's why the first thing that they do when they come on the train, they jump and try to go and hide. They don't want to be visible because if there is a big group, you have immigration coming out. They're trying to hide and trying not to be visible, and they are always on the watch. It becomes very dangerous, very, very dangerous, even life-threatening.
We as Franciscans, do not consider them as migrants, they're not migrants. They are our brothers and our sisters. That's who they are. There is no other distinction, and they are being rejected. All true. They are the ones who, if we talk about vulnerable groups, are vulnerable, and everyone is against them. So that's why, it is so important for us to do as we do for them.”
“It was a humbling and heartfelt experience to accompany the social workers as they made their rounds to deliver basic necessaries.”
Being with the Poorest of the Poor
On our third day of the pilgrimage, we split up into teams, one team went to a man’s home who is bedridden, Don Jesús, and the other team went to visit a man, Don Amando, who has been waiting four years to have a hernia operation and his wife, Donna Margarita, who is unable to walk.
Don Jesús
By Suzanne M Connolly
Jesús lay in his bed, in his one-room home. He welcomed his visitors with the most beautiful smile and with twinkly in his eyes. He only spoke Spanish, and some of the pilgrims understood what he was saying. Others of us only understood what he was saying through one of our group leaders and interpreter, Francisco. Francisco’s talent as an interpreter came naturally as he like many other Latinos in the United States grew up interpreting for his parents as they crossed to and from the border town of Nogales, Arizona, to Nogales, Mexico.
Jesús tells us he spent most of his life collecting and selling aluminum cans to support himself until his body gave out. For many years now he has been bedridden. His gnarled and arthritic hands, still beautiful, testify to his years of toil as a recycler and guardian of the earth. He tells us that he has siblings, but none of them have visited him in the last five years. He says he “lays no blame on them.” “God is always with him” and is ”keeping him company.”
We cleaned his yard, which took eight huge plastic bags of accumulated debris. Because Jesús is bedridden, he is forced to throw his trash out the window nearby his bed.
The Pilgrims who visited were the temporary guardians of Jesús' little piece of earth. Father Martin, who is the Franciscan priest running the mission, said to not judge and to not try to fix. A fixer by nature, his words were difficult for me to honor, however, I did as Fr Martin asked of us.
While Fr. Martin was holding open one of the huge trash bags, I scooped the last of the trash, “This probably comes under the category of trying to fix things Father, but maybe we could put a trash can under his window.” Father smiled fondly, and as a wise father might say to a naïve child, tells me that he thinks that Jesús is “used to doing it this way.” Lesson learned, and it was and still is a hard lesson to live as a fixer!
Before leaving we said our goodbyes to Jesús. For me, Jesús was my spiritual teacher. He tells us that he appreciated that we visited and cleaned his yard.
“Love hung very thick in the air as we all left to board our van.”
Don Jesús
By Mary & George Thompson
When I think back to our mission in Guaymas, and visiting with Jesus it was a life-changing experience. Even though we could not communicate, I will never forget a moment with Jesus. He smiled continually throughout our visit. I was helping with cleaning his room. We played a little… “Should I throw things around his bed or not? We laughed the whole time.
I believe I brought some joy to Jesus on this day. This time with him, makes me want to put smiles on the faces of the people in need in my home community. If possible, I will return to Guaymas again.
A Visit with Don Jesús
By Tim Corzine
Among the many activities packed into our recent trip to Guaymas, one of the more impactful for me was a morning spent doing service work at the home of Don Jesús, an older man who receives support from Casa Franciscana Outreach. He lives in a poorer section of the city, not far from our guest house. We arrived that morning, fresh and ready to help with a variety of odd jobs we thought would include general housecleaning and yard work. When we got there, however, a different picture emerged as to what we’d be doing, contrary to the ideas in my head.
Don Jesús lived in a tiny one-room home that had no running water. He was confined to a bed situated in the main living area near the front door, and he greeted us warmly as we entered. The home was beyond basic, lacking a kitchen or a functioning bathroom, which consisted of a nonworking toilet sitting on the floor alongside a dismounted sink.
We fanned out and spent time picking up the yard, collecting accumulated scrap, and sweeping and straightening inside. Someone in our group retrieved a bucket of water from a nearby business and a few cleaned inside as best they were able. As I worked outside, I contemplated this man’s situation, someone who maintained a smile and friendly demeanor in the face of such adversity. I really didn’t know if I was helping much, but continued to walk the yard, pull apart piles of debris, and load them into bags. I firmly believed there was a lesson in this somewhere that my Higher Power wanted me to know. Later, this became a little clearer.
Once we’d done about as much as we were able given the time constraints, we regrouped inside around Don Jesús in his bed. He then proceeded to share a little of his life story. As he spoke, I realized that sometimes it’s not about “doing” things for others that are as important as simply “being”, to be present with someone in their trials. He eked out a modest existence selling hot dogs from a vending cart and collecting scrap metal to recycle. As he spoke, I was struck by his strong sense of faith and gratitude, and an almost prophetic way of telling his life’s experiences.
The stories he told us, I was struck by the clear and matter-of-fact way in which he told his stories. To me, it felt like a Gospel message every bit as meaningful as the one we’d hear in church, but here we were learning it firsthand in a poor neighborhood of Guaymas. I was reminded too, as we were many times during the trip, that God is present in the unlikeliest places, perhaps even more so. We are most likely to find him in these places of pain and suffering if we look hard enough.
Water in the Desert
Don Armando & Dona Margarita
By Laura Chun
It was hot and dusty, and I was grouchy. A question continually bounced around in my head as my hands worked the rake through the piles of dead leaves. What good was this doing anyway?
During our visit to Casa Franciscana in Guaymas, Mexico, we were witness to the lives of so many living in abject poverty. Skinny dogs scampered in the streets. Piles of plastic trash collected in drifts within derelict buildings left crumbling and vacant by the economic and societal void left by the collapse of the local fishing industry.
As pilgrims, Fr. Martin Ibarra, OFM, invited us to visit the small home of Don Armando and Doña Margarita on the far margins of town. The little home was hand-built in the hills from found and re-purposed items. Don Armando was standing proudly in front of it, despite his exceedingly frail health. His slender extremities supported a belly bulging with an untreated hernia, hidden in an oversized jacket. Doña Margarita was seated inside, unable to stand, but with bright eyes and a warm smile for her guests. I glanced at them returning their smiles but feeling awkward - not wanting to intrude into their lives.
I was there to participate in a small service project, in my case, raking piles of leaves around Don Armando’s house. I began my task, but it immediately felt futile. What good was raking leaves in the midst of so much poverty? I raked anyway – as I was asked to do this, I might as well do it well. I became lost in my thoughts, but as my work progressed and the detritus cleared, I discovered that in the dirt dug around the base of each tree was a beautifully formed irrigation ring. Recognizing the expertise of the gardener, I looked up to Don Armando in appreciation of his effective water utilization. He smiled and handed me his small bucket asking if I could water his prized and now-cleared trees. Back and forth, I carried water from the cistern and carefully watered each of the trees, the water flowing into the rings and disappearing into the earth. In a small way felt like I was bringing ‘water to the desert.’ It occurred to me that I was finally doing something useful.
Don Armando looked on and he glowed with pride as he shared about each of the trees: guava, orange, mango… These trees were a treasure. When each had been watered and discussed, he graciously invited me into his home. He built this place. I could see the joy he had showing me the different rooms: a kitchen, bath, storage area, living room, and bedroom. All on a concrete floor and under a tin roof. He welcomed me as an honored guest.
Doña Margarita sat in the bedroom and motioned for me to sit next to her. ‘Is it ok? On your bed?’ I asked as she motioned to the place next to her. The words and emotions tumbled out. They graced me with their stories: his time in the Navy, her photos of special times with grandchildren. They invited me in. Into their home, into their stories, into their lives. This was not about raking up the dusty leaves or watering fruit trees. It was about this conversation. It was about being a witness to their lives. It was about being heard. It was about being seen.
Don Armando and Dona Margarita
By Rick Rusch
When we first arrived, Don Armando came out to greet us with a great big smile. He was small in stature but that smile showed a great warmth that made us feel at home. He then introduced us to his wife, Dona Margarita, who is bedridden.
While we all started to receive our assignments, Victor, our interpreter, and I went into his home to get the yard tools to clean his yard of debris and overgrown grass. Don Armando always had a smile; one would not have known he was waiting to have his hernia operated on; for four years. He wore a truss covered by his jacket. I couldn’t have imagined the pain he had; I know first-hand since I have had two hernias in my life. When we got to the shed with the yard tools, he refused help and always had that smile.
The house was modest. The exterior of the walls where made of sheets of metal due to the terminates in the area. While going to the shed we went through the kitchen. I saw no refrigeration nor an oven. The only oven I saw was a homemade outside oven to cook on.
Don Armando started to talk about his military service, first in the Mexican Army and then in the Mexican Navy. Since I am a veteran, I shared with him about my time in the Marine Corps and he then shared his story about his time in the Navy. He shared pictures of himself as a young soldier while I also shared pictures of me in my uniform.
We talked for a while as proud veterans, with Victor translating. Even though we didn't speak the same language, his eyes told me his story, Love. And love is a universal language.
Our Last Night
On the last night we were in Guaymas, Fr. Martin gave mass. Instead of giving a homily, a sermon talking about the scripture he read to us, Fr. Martin had us all take a moment in silence to reflect on what we had experienced and felt. At the end of the mass, we were given the cross of St. Francis, a Franciscan symbol, the TAU, , resembling the Cross, a sign of conversion. At that moment we were officially pilgrims, completing our Franciscan service pilgrimage journey, in contemplation and in action, caring for the people in Guaymas, Sonora, Mexico.
The Casa Franciscana Mission Programs
The Mission’s current programs address the many needs of the marginalized population of Guaymas through its free medical/dental clinic, Mesón de Jesus (dining room), food packages for the home-bound, migrant shelter support, and a youth center for ages 12 to 18 years of age. The social workers also screen, arrange visas, and transport children to specific infirmities for treatment. The services are open to all; however, they primarily serve four of the poorest Guaymas neighborhoods, a population of approximately 10,000 in a city with approximately 110,000 people.
Casa Franciscana Mission is in Guaymas, Sonora, Mexico, dates back to 1968, and is part of two other Casas: the Franciscan Renewal Center (The Casa), in Paradise Valley, Arizona, and the Casa Franciscana Outreach (CFO), in Scottsdale, Arizona.
“To journey without being changed is to be a nomad. To change without journeying is to be a chameleon. To journey and to be transformed by it is to be a pilgrim."
Quote from Casa Franciscana Outreach Service Mission
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