Final Reflections from Dr. Gregory Cuellar: Dignity, Peace, and Justice

Our two-week mission in Guatemala and Mexico is now complete. Incomplete, however, is God’s Mission, which after this trip can seem more like a ‘Mission Impossible.’ It is apparent that the pervasive and chronic poverty in these countries is only the outer ripple of a broader Western hemispheric socio-economic system, beginning with the Spanish conquest in the 16th century. Traveling outside the ‘natural’ flows of the tourist industry, we were exposed to multiple and complex layers of indignity and injustice. Yet, even more disturbing is the nefarious use of Scripture to justify the inhumane treatment of thousands of indigenous groups in the region.

(The Ancient Mayan Arch, Uxmal Ruins)


In these margins of margins, the voice of the indigenous Mayan “other” speaks “from below” in a cacophony of dialects (i.e. Kaqichikel, Quiché, Bachajón, Tenejapa, Oxchuc, Chenaltio, Amatenango, Tzeltal). Weighing heavily upon their heads and shoulders are not only basic consumable goods, but also the adverse effects of our hyper-consuming practices and the skewing of justice by those in power. Indeed, the trail we followed took us to the starting point of our “guaranteed low price” merchandise. We came face to face with the women, men, and children who labor for a dollar a day, so that many in the “first” world can enjoy unrestricted access to discounted goods.


In the transnational network of low wage sweat shops (i.e. maquiladoras), many are driven to make the “extreme” decision of immigrating northward. With little recourse in exploitative situations, some inevitably become involved in gangs, prostitution, and drug trafficking. For others, however, the only “dignified” option is to immigrate northward, which means riding on the roof of the infamous migrant train “La Bestia” (The Beast) also known as El Tren de Muerte (The Death Train).

(See site: www.72migrantes.com)


At every stop in our journey, I would ask locals, “Do you have a family member or loved one in the U.S?” And with sobering eyes, their answer was almost always, “Si.” As one young Mayan woman said to me, “I have not seen or heard from my loved one in two years. His name is Vairo. If you see him—please let him know I am waiting.”


Rather than using the next few lines positing on a solution or response to the social and economic ailments of our region, I would like to leave you with an image of the world that I saw during our visit to Central America Evangelical Center for Pastoral Studies (Cedepca) in Guatemala City. This appears to be the best place for us to start.