You probably know about the "associations" of immigrants to the US, mostly from Mexico, that organize in order to direct funds to help improve life in their villages and towns back home. This Chicago Tribune article tells the story of the building of a new church in a Mexican village:
SAN ANTONIO GUARACHA, Mexico -- Through the streets of this tiny village, the faithful carry crosses and icons to mark the feast last week of their beloved St. Anthony of Padua. Their destination is the glorious church that villagers built to show their devotion to God.
Inside, they walk across gleaming floors of granite imported from India. They sit on carved pews of pine, built at $3,000 each. The walls are adorned with elaborate stained-glass windows, and a 105-foot bell tower reaches for the heavens.While worshipers enjoy the luxury, however, townspeople walk along unpaved roads or past flows of fetid water. Young men sit on the curb drinking liter bottles of Estrella beer. Daily life isn't pretty -- countless residents migrate to the U.S. for something better.
The 1,500 residents of San Antonio relied on money from immigrants in Illinois and other states in the U.S. to build this $1.3 million church, a staggering sum for a poor village.
Most residents love the church, which was completed in January, but others see it as a monument to misplaced priorities. With so many needs confronting the town, skeptics question such an extravagant project, even one built as a display of faith.
The church's organizers squirm when pressed on the price tag, but they eventually turn the question around: Should their faith be bound by a budget?
"If we are going to build something in God's honor and for the community, let it be the best," said Jesus Mendez, the church's pastor. "The people sense that all the sacrifices we are making are a sign of the love we have for God. It is like a continuous offering."
Contributions from U.S.
Nearly everyone agreed that the old church had to go. Built in a former hacienda granary in the 1940s, the facility often leaked when it rained and was too small to handle the crowds of immigrants who returned home from the U.S. for winter holidays.
The townspeople originally pitched a modest replacement. Once immigrants in the Chicago area and elsewhere got involved, however, the project's scope and price tag took off. About 75 percent of the final contributions would come from the U.S.
In the Chicago area, a "hometown association" made up of San Antonio natives raised money through raffles, dances and dinners. Most contributions came in small increments, but a family from Tennessee donated a $10,000 stylized crucifix that hangs above the altar.
Martin Padilla, a real estate agent and computer programmer from northwest suburban Lake Zurich, shuttled between Illinois and Mexico to pull the project together. Although townspeople formed an advisory committee, the immigrant clubs and pastor drove most of the project, residents said.snip
Jose Luis Orejel, a member of the project committee, said it sounds good on paper to rally residents to bankroll roads or schoolbooks. But he insists that the same residents who made financial sacrifices for the church wouldn't necessarily do so for a septic tank.
"Our people wouldn't have had the willingness to help with something else. For many, it was this or nothing," Orejel said.
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