MISSIONER NEWSLETTER – Winter 2026

Sarah Bueter, El Salvador

The village gathers for Mass in an open-air celebration of community.

A new year, a new liturgical season. Happy 2026!

Given that Salvadoran seasons oscillate between only two: one rainy and one hot, the Catholic liturgical calendar has become my primary way of marking time. Without the Midwest seasonal harbingers—the first splash of autumnal color or the first sighting of grass after the snowmelt—time is demarcated by the purple of Advent, the saccharine taste of coffee served in las posadas, and now the greens of Ordinary Time.

Compared with my first year in ministry, the second year began in a new community. My search for a more team-based, sustainable ministry landed me in a small village in the mountainous department of Chalatenango. A side note: the beauty and cooler temperatures make for an excellent vacation spot for the intrepid traveler, if anyone is so inclined.

The community is tight-knit, linked together like braces on teeth—though with a generation of young people missing due to migration, the teeth have a few gaps. The abuelas are custodians of the village’s past; many also care for their grandchildren. Here, the past holds many shades. The women recount stories of the cat-and-mouse hunt with the Salvadoran armed forces during the 70s and 80s, arduous years in refugee camps, followed by the near-mythical return around 1987 and the rebuilding of the village.

Although seemingly remote from global realities such as the influx of AI, the decline of democratic institutions, or the rise of authoritarianism, the village experiences these realities just as acutely, though on a smaller scale. El Salvador remains under a state of exception—akin to living under martial law. People are afraid. Most do not speak openly about the thousands imprisoned without due process. Here, those from our community who are incarcerated are mentioned only in vague, generalized phrases during Thursday holy hour, when we pray for them on our knees.

Community members paint a mural together in Chalatenango, turning a shared wall into a shared story of memory, creativity, and belonging.

Life in this tiny corner is not a retreat from the world but, as John of the Cross suggests, a way “to become mild, bringing the mild into harmony with the mild.” By choosing to live in a seemingly unimportant corner of the world, I do not leave the world—I am invited to see and live in it differently.

Faced with the limits of my own smallness and inability to “get things done,” I become more aware of my powerlessness—and more attuned to my neighbors, who are equally powerless before political and economic decisions that rain down upon them. Kids here, raised on TikTok in the absence of after-school programs or attentive parents, struggle with loneliness, concentration, and social skills. As a catechist, I speak often about friendship, service, authenticity, and being one’s true self. They are 15 years old, after all.

People ask what I do day-to-day (no one asks this more than I ask myself!). Embroidery workshops. Holy hours. Meals. Posadas. Coffee harvests. Local church traditions. Catechesis. Chess. Mural painting. Kids’ craft projects. Aerobics classes. Organizing senior citizens. House visits.

Accompaniment means being present to a community in both its joys and its suffering—every single day. In that sense, accompaniment has no days off. A day may be glacially paced, but it is never dull.

Accompaniment, I believe, is where real change happens—change that cannot be measured in programs, outcomes, or outputs. Integral human development occurs in the long grind of changing attitudes and perceptions. Especially for youth, beyond events and lessons, what truly changes a person is when she feels loved and seen.

Jesus invited Thomas: “Take your finger and examine my hands. Take your hand and stick it in my side. Don’t be unbelieving. Believe.” (John 20:27)

So that is what 2026 will look like: peeling back the layers of community life here, touching wounds, and tending to them.

May your 2026 echo the response of Thomas, filled with wonder and hope: “My Lord and my God!”

Peace,
Sarah

Please support my mission in El Salvador with a donation through the link below.

I also invite you to walk with me as a “COMPANION IN MISSION.” Companions in Mission are friends and generous donors who give financial gifts on a regular (usually monthly) basis. For more information, visit Become a Companion in Mission. Thank you so much for your generosity!