The diocesan mission in the Dominican Republic was started in my first year of seminary 16 years ago by former Arlington Bishop John R. Keating. Father Gerry Creedon was the first of six Arlington priests to serve this community. Currently, I serve with Father Daniel Gee, the pastor.

This mission includes two parishes that straddle the Haitian border as far from a resort as one can be on the island. Our daily efforts are hardly restricted to the communities of our two churches. We are also responsible for more than 50 chapels in the villages that dot the roads and are scattered about in the mountains.

We have a particular region that most nearly resembles the apostolic experience of delivering the Gospel for the first time to people. This region is called the Loma and includes about 15 chapels. The quickest this area can be reached from our church is an hour and a half motorcycle ride over a desolate serpentine stretch of road that offers the juxtaposition of beautiful vistas and deep mud. For road shoulders, one has 6,000-foot mountains steeply falling into the canyon, and for a road surface there are puddles that can engulf a man head to toe. Our first chapel here is only the beginning point to a freshly bulldozed road that leads to six of these 15 chapels. At the end of this road one needs a mule to cross rivers and ascend mountainous passes and trails.

I have been here a year and haven’t visited all of the communities we serve. It takes days to make a visit to some, and in the rainy seasons it isn’t worth it. Not that souls aren’t of a sufficient value to motivate us, but the rain is an ample force in keeping folks at home, like a snow day in Virginia. I did have the faith-challenging experience of preaching in one of these rainstorms in the mountains. I say "faith-challenging"’ because it’s one thing to have your well-practiced, erudite, insightful and inspiring words muffed by a crying baby in a church at home — we all know this is a result of original sin — but when it is "an act of God" banging on a zinc roof making these precious words inaudible, one gets to feel a little dejected by the "Boss."

Missionary efforts in the mountain communities are an exciting adventure. We continue to make progress in the two towns we serve by creating a type of parish community with which you are familiar in Virginia. Last week, we completed the second story of the new school. The school opened last year to kindergarten through fifth-grade. This year we welcome children up to eighth-grade. This is a momentous occasion. In the parish’s 500-year history (we were founded in 1506) this is the first parochial school as far as anyone can remember. While it may have taken 500 years to get to this point, the construction and the funding were completed in record time.

Of all the things we do with diocesan help — clothing, food, medicine and the sacraments — the school is one of the greatest sources of thanks from the community. There is a sense of pride about it. The people feel it is a permanent source of the diocese’s commitment.

There are so many things we take for granted back home because we have all been educated. Many of the people I serve in our country chapels have never had the discipline of sitting and absorbing a lesson. In turn, it is often difficult for them to follow the Gospel. Their lack of retention of the words proclaimed at times would drive the most patient primary school teacher to tears.

In an effort to ameliorate the problem, Father Gee and I, like the good steward of the parable, reached back in our Christian tradition for something old and added something new. We are now using images to help bring the Gospel to our parishioners. It’s not unlike the great stained glass of Chartres Cathedral — just with duct tape. We are supplementing our catechism classes with Christian imagery downloaded from the internet. We are fixing to our rustic chapel walls printed versions of masterpieces. Three college coeds from our diocese — Jennessa Durney, Jessie Aldrich and Erica Elfring — successfully inaugurated this program this summer.

Come October, two recent graduates from Christendom College, Julia Peterson and Veronica Pelster, will arrive for the school year. Now, Michelangelo can preach the Gospel along with my broken, but improving, Spanish. I only wish we could paint frescos. Last week, during a class I was teaching, I was surprised to find one of our pedagogical devices was a new home to a scorpion.

I am thankful for this opportunity to serve in this unique way. There are challenges and demands, but over all these are always in the context of a Caribbean pace of life — they don’t have a word for stress. Thank you for your continued support.