August 1999

Can I tell you a story,
a true story, a story from Brazil?

Hector Hernandes Cabrera was born in Mexico on the 11th of March, 1967. Two sisters had arrived before him. He, coming in third place, was the oldest boy in a family which eventually numbered nine children. As a young lad he used to play the guitar in the streets of Mexico. Undoubtedly the desire "to earn a few bob" was present, but those who got to know him in latter years, and who saw that his principal happiness lied in bringing happiness to others, can well imagine that even this innocent amusement was motivated by his desire to irradiate joy in his surroundings.

About the year 1990 he entered the Order of the Holy Cross as a candidate, the house where he began his formation being close to the volcanic mountain of Popocatepetl in the state of Tlaxcala. About June 1992, I, as the brother responsible for the visas of the foreigners in our monasteries, received a copy of his passport, with the other necessary documents, and the order to arrange his Brazilian visa. Early in 1993, leaving family, friends and country, but bringing with him a glorious Mexican smile, he travelled to Brazil. There, on the 2nd of February, in the state of São Paulo, at the Order's house of formation, he began his novitiate. I got to know him one year later when he came to our monastery near Anápolis, a city in the centre of Brazil, where the brothers of the Order study philosophy and theology.

Before he arrived in Anápolis he had made his first profession and received "Jeremiah" as his religious name. However, on many an occasion his baptismal name came to my lips I called him "Brother Hector" instead of "Brother Jeremiah". His correction was always accompanied by a smile. Yes, that was the feature of our new Mexican brother: a determination to smile. He seemed set on irradiating joy to the entire community. Rain or sunshine, after having slept well or badly, with hunger or headache, Brother Jeremiah smiled.

After my ordination to the priesthood I spent two years studying in Rome. On returning to Brazil in late 1997 I noticed that Brother Jeremiah seemed to have lost his sparkle. In a conversation I asked him what had happened. While admitting that he had lost some of his earlier joy, it was clear that his determination to serve the Lord had not waned.

Better days were ahead. In 1998 he began pastoral work in a very poor area close to the monastery. He aimed at meeting couples who were already living together but had not yet received the Sacrament of Marriage. His work produced rich fruits. His joy was returning.

At the end of 1998 his preparation for final vows began. On the 11th of February, the Feast of Our Lady of Lourdes, he made his final profession in the Religious Life. Seven days later he was ordained to the diaconate.

As we observed Brother Jeremiah we wondered what would become of him. There was no doubt but that he could be sent for post-graduate studies. Within a few years he could have a doctorate in philosophy or theology and begin teaching in our Seminary. But something told us that "further studies" were not for him. He was showing all the properties of a Young Lion who wanted to leave his cage and conquer the world for Christ. No, no, do not get me wrong! Brother Jeremiah loved his life of prayer. He loved kneeling before the Blessed Sacrament, and just looking up at His Eucharistic Lord. He was deeply aware that he was loved by Christ and that he must return this love.

But he also wanted to transmit this same love to others. In fact one of his favorite pastimes was the translation and presentation of plays which were aimed at increasing love for the Blessed Eucharist.

Immediately after ordination the joyful and enthusiastic young deacon started weekend work in a parish about 40 miles from the monastery. On Saturday May 1st he went as usual to the parish of Jaraguá. He officiated at two weddings. He was due back to the monastery on Saturday night, but as the parish priest was still fighting with a heavy flu he phoned the monastery and requested that Br. Jeremiah stay to help him at the Sunday Masses. The request was granted, and our deacon was happy to oblige.

On Sunday evening at about 8:15 pm, as our brother was about to leave the parish and return to the monastery, Fr. Luiz expressed the desire to bring him back in his own car. Our Deacon refused, telling Fr. Luiz that he was still not over the flu, and that he might fall asleep "on the wheel" as he returned to the parish alone. Br. Jeremiah then accepted a lift from some friends who were travelling towards the monastery. Before leaving he asked the blessing of the parish priest and bade him farewell, but this time it would be the last time!

The journey started with some brief prayers: one Our Father and three Hail Mary's for the soul of a priest friend of our brother. It was already dark. They drove in silence for about fifteen minutes. As they approached a Petrol Station, a car, without parking or headlights, pulled out and remained half parked in the centre of the road. When the driver of the oncoming car in which Br. Jeremiah was passenger finally caught sight of the other car he swerved. The car hit the right hand kerb and then began to turn over. It turned once, twice, three times. It eventually landed four wheels in the air off the far side of the road. The driver and the other three passengers survived, Brother Jeremiah lay there in a pool of blood. The locals came on the scene to help. They carried our deacon towards the side of the road. As they carried him he said: "my ear is bleeding alot". He was placed in as comfortable a position as circumstances permitted and the men ran to seek help. One of the passengers, a religious, Sister Carmen, spoke to the dying deacon: "Diácono fala comigo, fala comigo" "Deacon talk to me, talk to me". Brother Jeremiah then spoke some of his last words, the most stunning words that any man could speak in the agony of death: "JESUS ME AMA MUITO" "JESUS LOVES ME VERY MUCH".

How is it possible that this young man could speak such words as his life was being taken from him at such a young age? Only a life of profound prayer and deep Christian conviction could teach him that death is a door to true life, the life of fulfillment in God.

And we could further ask: How is it possible that God could take such a dedicated worker from the harvest so much in need of labourers? In the parish of Jaraguá one priest, Fr. Luiz, serves 35,000 souls. God's ways are not our ways, but His ways are wiser than ours. Our brother had fulfilled his task. In only 73 days as a deacon he baptized 58 children and presided at 13 weddings: 71 Sacraments in 73 days!

God decided that he wanted His deacon for Himself. The hour had come when his servant could truly say:

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. -II Tim 4,7

But who will continue to fight the good fight? Who will pick up and carry the torch left off by Br. Jeremiah? Are there young people who are ready and willing to keep and spread the most precious gift that God has given us: our Christian faith?

May God grant eternal rest to His Servant Jeremiah, and confiding that He has already done so, we ask his intercession so that God will bless his Mexican family and send many labourers into His field.

¹Prayer of St. Joseph's Young Priests Society.