Fr. Kevin McKenzie - Saint José: Boy Cristero Martyr

SAINT JOS

Kevin McKenzie, L.C.

Illustrated by John Herreid

IGNATIUS PRESS SAN FRANCISCO

Cover art and design by Christopher J. Pelicano

2019 by Ignatius Press
All rights reserved
ISBN 978-1-62164-242-8 (paperback)
ISBN 978-1-64229-076-9 (ebook)
Library of Congress Control Number 2018958976
Printed in the United States of America

To Jos, in gratitude

I DARE YOU.

Oh yeah? Well, I double dare you.

OK, said Jos, the taller of the two boys, running a hand through his mop of black hair.

Last one up for air wins, said his friend Trino.

One, two, three! they shouted together.

Both boys took a deep breath, held their noses, and plunged into the slow-moving stream.

It was late July, 1926, in the small town of Sahuayo in central Mexico.

Beneath the surface, the two thirteen-year-olds had opened their eyes. Jos blew some bubbles, which floated to the surface. Then Trino held his hands up to his head and made a funny face. Next, Jos gave Trino a push, and soon the two were wrestling underwater.

Bursting to the surface, Jos was the first to come up for air.

His friend popped up only a second later, gasping for breath.

No fair, Trino, said Jos. We didnt say you could wrestle.

We didnt say you couldnt, Trino replied with a grin.

Im gonna get you! shouted Jos as he dove for his friend

Clang, clang, clang went the church bells.

Both boys froze in place.

Oh no! groaned Jos, eyes wide. Were late for Mass.

You two look like you just finished a marathon, said the priest as he scooped a heaping spoonful of incense onto the glowing charcoal. Are you ready?

S, Padre, said Jos, sweat pouringdown his forehead. This thing is so heavy. He shut the incense-laden censer with a clang. Its thick bronze rings dangled from the boys fingers, and its weight made his hand droop slowly downward. Smoke poured from its holes, wrapping the two boys and the priest in a heavy cloak.

Ready... when... you are,... Padre Ignacio, said Trino, who was still catching his breath. He clasped a large processional cross to his chest.

The priest chuckled. Bueno, he said, straightening his vestments. Jos, keep that thing open so the smoke can come out, and dont let it touch the ground. Trino, make sure you dont bang Jesus head on the doorway.

Together, they bowed to the cross and stepped from the sacristy into the church. Jos walked in front with the incense, Trino followed with the cross, and Padre Ignacio took his place at the rear.

Jos kept his eyes glued to the smoking censer as it swung back and forth, letting out bursts of thick, perfumed smoke.

From behind he heard a whisper. Am I supposed to genuflect with this thing?

You just bow, replied Jos, turning his head.

Distracted, he didnt notice the censer drooping. As they neared the altar, its metal base skimmed the surface of the clay tiles, releasing a high-pitched ring.

Watch out for the step, said Padre Ignacio from behind.

Jos pulled up on the chain, but he was too late. The censer crashed into the granite step at the foot of the sanctuary.

Jos watched with dismay as burning charcoal spilled from the open censer and scattered across the floor. Most of it landed harmlessly on the tiles, but one piece bounced its way to the rug beneath the altar. From where it came to rest, smoke billowed up.

Fire! cried a voice in the front pew.

Jos, I thought you were gonna burn the whole church down, said Trino, back in the sacristy, slipping the large cross into its holder.

The sound of chatter came from the back of the church where a small crowd of women and children had gathered after Mass.

Thank God for holy water, said Padre Ignacio, as he placed his large, white vestment on a hanger.

Laughter filled the sacristy.

Jos turned to Trino and gave him a jab in the side. Remember, you were gonna ask, he whispered, raising his eyebrows.

You ask, Josit was your idea, snapped Trino. Besides, hes your uncle.

De acuerdo, said Jos, sticking a hand in his pocket. Padre Ignacio, have you ever been up in the bell tower?

Of course, Jos, the priest replied. What makes you ask?

Well,... um... you... see,... uh... me and Trinoweve been wondering how far you can see from the top.

Padre Ignacio chuckled. Why on a clear day, you can see all the way to the cathedral in Guadalajara. Thats over sixty miles away as the crow flies. A wry smile crossed the priests face. Would you like to climb up?

S, Padre, s! the boys blurted out.

Well then, said the priest, follow me!

Turning down a corridor, Padre Ignacio brought them to a gnarled wooden door fastened with an ancient padlock. Knowing you two, he said, fiddling with the keys, theres more to this than just the view. He pulled the door open, revealing a spiral staircase.

Jos drew his hand from his pocket. Trino glanced at him before he admitted sheepishly, Padre, there is a bet.

Jos rolled his eyes.

A bet? asked Padre Ignacio, arching his eyebrows. Whats at stake?

Jos says he can throw a rock from the top of the tower all the way to his house, Trino replied. I say he cant. Whoever wins gets to light the candles next time.

Padre Ignacio smiled. How about we make a deal, he said. Ill take you to the top of the tower if, he raised his index finger and looked at them sharply, if you leave your rocks at the bottom.

Jos cocked his head to the side glumly. Then who gets to light the candles?

Look at the lake, said Trino, gazing out from the top of the tower. Its all sparkling. Ive never seen it from this high. Seems like it goes on forever.

Pap says Lake Chapala is the biggest lake in all of Mxico, said Jos, holding a hand over his eyes to block the sun. He says that it used to be even bigger. Sahuayo was a lake town.

I love Sahuayo just as it is, said Padre Ignacio with a sigh. Red-roofed houses, lots of treessmall but not too smallits perfect. His eyes fell lovingly on the town square just below them, with its rows of cedar trees and the large iron gazebo in the center. Our three churches, Santiago, Sagrado Corazn, and the Santuario, he gazed across town to the other steeple, make Sahuayo something special. There arent many three-church towns around.

The figures gazed in silence. Swallows dipped and soared through the warm summer air. Higher still, fluffy clouds drifted across the sky.

Padre Ignacio, is it true what they say? asked Jos.

About what? asked the priest.

That President Calles wants to close the churches?

I wish it werent true, Padre Ignacio said with a sigh. Calles new law will make all churches government property

But thats not fair, Jos broke in.

and I wont be allowed to wear my cassock any more. My homilies will need to be approved by the government. Priests can either become employees of the state or leave the country.