“The church will not be the same after this.” : McAllen Catholic Deacon Recounts COVID-19 Experience

MCALLEN, Texas — In the Catholic faith, the 40 day Lenten period leading into Holy Week and Easter represents the 40 days Jesus spent alone in the desert. Deacon Jose Vargas celebrated the Easter season with empty pews at San Juan Diego Cuauhtlatoatzin Catholic Church in McAllen, Texas. Despite being a season of new life, the realities of COVID-19 prolonged these feelings of loneliness.

The Rio Grande Valley, a majority Mexican/Mexican-American region along the U.S.-Mexico border, was devastated by COVID. Of the 1.4 million people in the region, approximately 3,393 people died of complications related to COVID in 2020.

Vargas’ small community at Juan Diego was not left unscathed. A relatively small parish, Vargas said 70 parishioners from Juan Diego died of complications related to COVID. Whether it be funeral services, burial services or performing last rites, Deacon Vargas was on the frontlines as a witness to all the devastation.

As owner of Apple Pharmacy, a pharmaceutical chain in south and central Texas, COVID had been on Vargas’ radar since December of 2019. In early February of 2020, Vargas’ business partner tested positive for the virus, becoming one of the first cases in the Valley. Having come into contact with his partner, Vargas immediately quarantined himself. The scarcity of COVID tests resulted in a 12 day waiting period for a result.

Twelve days away from family. Twelve days away from his business. Twelve days alone. Despite being confirmed negative, this close encounter served as what Vargas described to be a “rude awakening.”

It was this experience as well as his professional background that informed the decisions he would make as a deacon. Juan Diego, which serves about 650 families, is located in a low-income south McAllen neighborhood known as “La Balboa.”

The Diocese of Brownsville’s decision to suspend masses was met with great sadness from both the clergy and parishioners. Despite the decision to continue celebrating the mass, albeit for a virtual audience, the pastoral team at Juan Diego was deeply saddened.

Mari Garcia, 74, a member of Juan Diego for more than 20 years, said parishioners were also greatly saddened. “Attending mass online is not the same experience as going in person,” she said. “But we had to do it.”

With Vargas’ insight, the pastoral team at Juan Diego immediately put safety protocols into place. They were social distancing before the CDC’s guidelines on COVID safety were made available to the public. They wore masks before they were mandated by Texas Governor Greg Abbott. Hand sanitizer was used before handling the Eucharist.

In the spring months, confirmed cases and fatalities were low in south Texas, but as spring turned to summer, Texas began removing lockdown restrictions on places like exercise facilities and salons. At the local level, shelter-at-home mandates were still effect.

Dr. Chris Casso of the South Texas Health System stated that in addition to high incidences of underlying health conditions and a lack of resources, misinformation spurred on by conflicting information from state and local governments contributed to a rising number of infections and deaths throughout the region. “Local counties did not have the support of the state government to take necessary action to really shut down,” she said.

Vargas partially attributes the high death toll to the poverty in the region. According to the Texas Association of Counties, 26.9% of Hidalgo County’s population lives in poverty. In neighboring Cameron and Starr counties this population is 25.5% and 32.5%, respectively.

By late June, the Valley was regarded a national COVID hotspot. Vargas found that his role as a deacon was entering uncharted waters.

The phone calls were constant. Parishioners would call asking that Vargas perform last rite services for loved ones at hospitals or in homes. Many times he prayed outside hospitals with their family members. As one of the few parishes providing funeral and burial services in the region, Vargas was constantly called by funeral homes to provide committal services for the dead. Sometimes those calls came from crying parishioners in need of comfort after losing a loved one.

While preparing for a funeral service at a funeral home in McAllen during the height of the pandemic in the region, reporters from the LA Times were on the premise working on a story. Despite facing the destruction caused by COVID on a daily basis, Vargas didn’t really have time to take in the numbers of infected people in the Valley. So when a reporter relayed this information to him, he was in shock.

Although some of the older deacons from the diocese were losing their lives to the virus, as a younger deacon Vargas understood he was still needed. In addition to his job at Apple Pharmacy and celebrating the mass regularly, Vargas was performing 12 to 15 funeral services per week at funeral homes and cemeteries across the Valley — from Harlingen to Rio Grande City.

Despite the severity of the situation in south Texas, the governor’s office began reopening restaurants and businesses throughout the summer. For example, restaurants were allowed to reopen to 75% capacity on June 12 only to be rescinded to 50% on June 26 due to an increase in infections throughout the state.

“I didn’t understand how we could move forward when there was so much devastation. The only thing I could bring to mind was that Texas state officials were simply not seeing what was happening in the Valley,” Vargas said.

According to the U.S. Census, Latinos make up 39.7% of the population in Texas, yet according to the Texas Department of State Health Services, Latinos make up 35.8% of confirmed COVID cases and 46.4% of COVID related deaths as of June 2021.

The work was exhausting. Vargas’ personal life was not spared, either. He lost eight close family members to the virus. But Vargas said seeing the hurt in other people’s faces is what kept him going. “My true ministry was to be where the people needed me the most.”

As the year came to an end and vaccine rollouts were beginning, Vargas felt great hope. “There was light at the end of the tunnel.”

Now, the devastation of COVID is visible at the parish. Parishioners who lost family members to the virus months ago still cry in front of the alter after mass. Pews that once held familiar faces continue to sit empty despite the church reopening to full capacity. Vargas worries about the future of the church, but he knows one thing for certain:

“The church will not be the same after this.”