IN A DRUG WAR-RAVAGED CITY, PRIESTS OFFER SPIRITUAL SUPPORT, GUIDANCE

JUAREZ -- The fight against evil starts here.

Every morning before the sun rises, the Rev. Francisco Lopez goes to
the gym, prays afterward and gets ready to do battle.

He prays that the day will be different, that God is still on his
side, that good will win and that order triumphs over chaos.

But so far, evil is taking the battle to his doorstep.

Lopez is of one 120 Catholic priests who offer comfort, inspiration
and salvation to the victims of a vicious drug war, a war that has
made Juarez one of the most dangerous cities in the world.

For the priests of Juarez, death is never far away. And for every
death, there must be a religious service -- Catholic or not.

Since the drug war began in 2008, more than 6,900 people have died
violently. This year alone, more than 2,700 have been murdered --
some in the most grotesque ways.

While the government fights back with weapons and thousands of
federal police and soldiers, faith is the only weapon the priests use.

"The devil is loose in Juarez," Lopez said. "The devil is winning territory."

Lopez and other priests said that there is a "limpia," a cleansing,
taking place in the city of 1.3 million and that a new society will
emerge from the turmoil.

In the meantime, they will continue to bury victims and offer
absolution -- tasks that are becoming more difficult.

Jose Rene Blanco, vicar general of the Catholic Diocese of Juarez,
knows that the job of his priests is challenging, draining and
emotional. He, too, has felt the enemy up close.

Blanco offered a funeral Mass to 15 young people shot and killed Jan.
30 at a birthday party.

"To be there with them was painful," Blanco said of the service that
drew relatives and friends. "They showed their pain. It was terrible
suffering."

The massacre of the young people also drew international attention
and the condemnation of Mexican President Felipe Calderon, who
described the attack as the "cowardly murder of a group of young people."

Since that attack, others massacres with similar numbers of victims
have taken place in Juarez. The latest occurred on Oct. 25, when 14
young people were killed at another birthday party. Bishop Renato
Asencion Leon presided over those services.

Even with victims falling so quickly in the drug war, priests say
this is God's will and only he can bring an end to it.

Delicate Balance

Though most of the priests in Juarez have dealt with the violence,
the Rev. Antonio Urrutia may be at the forefront.

He is the parish priest of Jesucristo Sol de Justicia in the Villas
del Salvarcar neighborhood. The slayings in January were in his territory.

Gunmen entered the birthday party and sprayed bullets, killing the 15
young people. The crime shocked the city and the nation.

Authorities said the attack began when lookouts first scouted the
neighborhood to make sure there were no police. Four vehicles then
arrived with 24 men, some armed with AK-47s and AR-15 assault rifles
to shoot the partygoers.

Bodies were found in three locations, and blood was spilled on floors
and splattered against walls.

Then in October, the unthinkable happened again in his territory.

Gunmen burst into another party and indiscriminantly opened fire,
this time killing 14.

Urrutia was left with the aftermath of consoling relatives of the victims.

"It's a huge challenge for me. It's terrible both acts happened in my
parish," Urrutia said shortly after celebrating a Mass in El Paso.

Urrutia, 48 and originally from Chihuahua City, has to strike a
delicate balance between religion and reality when he talks with
relatives of victims.

"The people are very frightened, scared," he said. "They feel
powerless; they feel ignored by the government. They feel they are
not being taken into account. They demand solutions. The solutions of
the president are not working."

Calderon has declared war against the cartels in all of Mexico. So
far, nearly 29,000 people have been killed nationwide.

Urrutia, who has been a priest for 19 years, said he meets regularly
with relatives of those killed and holds vigils every month to
remember the victims.

"We are in the process of grief," he said. "We are having a positive
result. Some are embracing the religion, the values. Some of them are
changing their attitudes toward God, the church and their neighbors."

Urrutia said relatives of the victims do not seek to avenge the
deaths and have turned to the church for help.

"All those people are people of faith," he said.

He said he, too, feels powerless.

"As a priest you see the greatness of people and their miserable
side," he said. "The big challenge we have is what are we going to do
with this culture of violence? It's getting worse."

Inspiration and Faith

Priests in Juarez are different from others in that they are
front-line warriors in an unholy war.

They are tough, witty, understand their predicament and earn very
little money -- sometimes $600 a month, sometimes less depending on
donations. They like the good fight, depend on each other for
fortitude and will not go down easily.

Lopez finds his inspiration in his community.

Lopez, 38, originally from Mexico City, has been a priest for 11
years and admits that the violence in Juarez is the worst he has ever seen.

"I have never seen anything so chaotic," said Lopez, who served in
Rome for three years. "But even in times of crisis, we are building a
new church."

Lopez showed a church that is being built in colonia Lucio Cabanas
with donations from the community.

The church will be called La Medalla Milagrosa (the miraculous medal).

It is there, in the half-finished church, that Lopez finds his strength.

"God wants us to continue our work," he said standing in front of
what will be the altar, gently holding a wooden cross hanging from his neck.

Lopez said he feels powerless to stop the violence, but he and the
other priests are confronting the battle on a spiritual level.

"In the battlefield, you get angry. But you can't separate the man
from the priest," Lopez said. "They can kill the body, but nothing
else. The devil can take a soul, if man allows it."

He and his fellow priests at Parroquia El Refugio perform 12 to 15
funeral Masses a month. Lopez acknowledges that many times he does
not know anything about the person, the circumstances surrounding the
death or what he will say.

Priests said their sermons at funerals may be a little dispassionate
because they did not know the person and can only offer words of
encouragement to the relatives. They talk in generalities about God,
his goodness and how he forgives everyone.

"I specialize in funerals. The funeral is the best opportunity to get
people closer to God, right there in an instant," Lopez said. "Our
mission, as a minister of God, is to offer that person to God. My job
is to make relatives know that the dead person, our brother, will be
pardoned by God and that God will take him to heaven."

That applies to people who might have been involved in the drug war.

He said the violence that has taken hold in Juarez has made him
stronger -- like a guard dog. The violence also has brought him
closer to the church and the people he serves.

Because more people are going to church as a result of the bloodshed,
he said, "I have never felt as useful."

Others are gone for good.

"They are like a home run, the ball is going, going gone," he said.
"That ball will never return to the playing field. They will die in
their own sin."

The Rev. Guillermo Vargas Duran, also of the El Refugio, said his
strength comes from hope.

"You see the pain in the people. You see what happens. You grow
strength. We don't ignore the crisis, but we have hope," he said.

Vargas Duran, 65, of Leon, Guanajuato, has been a priest in Juarez
for 18 years.

"I have never lost my faith," he said. "God is asking me to be
faithful to the ministry, to my job as a priest."

Other priests also seek strength within themselves and in their
devotion to their work.

The Rev. Jose Solis, a popular priest known as "El Cholo" because of
his streetwise sermons, said faith also keeps him resolute.

"The strength is from Christ and the Virgin Mary," he said. "It's the
strength that God gives you."

Priests and parishes have also been the targets of criminal gangs.
Lopez said his parish has received calls from extortionists. He said
people at the church simply hang up the telephone when they get those calls.

"Nos pelan los dientes (they can't touch us)," he said. "We are not afraid."

Priests in El Paso also have felt the hand of evil.

The Rev. Raul Trigueros, rector of Cristo Rey Catholic Church, said
he looks up to the priests of Juarez because of the chaos they endure.

"It's difficult to find inspiration and to know what to say (at
funerals)," Trigueros said. "There is evil happening there."

Trigueros, originally of Celaya, Guanajuato, said the violence has
touched his parish also. He recalled that on one occasion he could
not carry out a funeral of man killed in Juarez.

"We waited for a week because they could not find his head," Trigueros said.

Bless Me, Father

The confessional is a place where a person can admit the ugliest of
sins and expect forgiveness. It is guaranteed.

In the presence of a priest, people can share their crimes against
God and society and be assured that they will be protected.

The Rev. Carlos Oscar Velazquez Lazaro has been a priest for only one
year and has already heard some unpleasant sins.

He is 29 years old, from Mexico City and at a young age already
carries a heavy load.

The violence has touched many of his parishioners in the eastern part
of the city. Juarez, he says, is different from other parts of Mexico.

"It's very different -- the confessions, the people are different," he said.

In a corner tucked away to the right side of a marbled altar is a
small area where he listens to confessions. A window provides the light.

He sees his parishioners eye to eye during confessions. At his
parish, there are no old-fashioned darkened confessionals where a
person can hide his face behind drapery.

Velazquez Lazaro said several women have confessed to taking part in murders.

"They were accomplices to assassinations," he said.

Velazquez Lazaro said he is torn between his own feelings as a man
and his job as a priest in granting salvation to someone who has
admitted committing a horrible crime.

"At that moment (when they confess), I invite them to repent whatever
they did and to have that conviction to move away from that
lifestyle. Maybe they did want that life. They may have been forced
into it," he said. "It's hard for them to take back what they did."

Regardless of his feelings, he said, he has to grant absolution.

"That is part of our work, to take faith to ever heart. Some hearts
are pure. God will also take a bad heart into consideration," said
Velazquez Lazaro, a small man who would be a good jockey in another life.

"They truly have to seek salvation and seek remorse," he said. "They
have to feel remorse for the injustice they have done to families. As
a priest, I have to give them salvation."

Velazquez Lazaro said he works with many young people who want to get
away from the violence.

"They live with that fear. They have great faith that God will
protect them," he said. "I think Juarez needs a little more touch from God."

God's Plan

If Juarez has become Satan's playground, the priests of this city say
they are winning the battle.

Even though the number of victims continues to increase, they are
confident good will eventually win.

"God always wins," Blanco said.

He and the others know that Juarez is taking a beating and its image
is bruised, but it will rise again.

God's plan is simple.

"It's salvation for everyone," Blanco said. "God is the Father. ...
God will always triumph over evil."

Blanco said the violence in Juarez has taken the spotlight away from
what is good in the city, a city that was once known for its
hospitality, its restaurants, shopping and night life.

"A tree that falls makes more noise than a forest growing," Blanco
said. "And the violence is making more noise."

He and others said it will take time for Juarez to emerge from its
troubled times.

"The situation will take a long time, many years to get out of this.
It will take time to rebuild," Blanco said.

Juarez, said Blanco and other priests, is at God's mercy.

"It's not that we are washing our hands of this," Urrutia said. "Our
foundation of faith is that God has the power to stop this situation.
How come he doesn't (do) that now? It's part of the mystery of life.
But we believe it has to change. Why doesn't he stop it? That is not
for me to respond."

Several priests in Juarez said the root of the violence is corruption
in government and a crisis of values.

Blanco said the lack of peace in Juarez and other parts of Mexico is
a consequence of years of corruption at all levels of government,
from politicians, local leaders, police and federal authorities.

"These are the people who have the responsibility to safeguard the
people," he said. "Corruption -- we are paying the consequences."

He said that there is injustice and that criminals run around with impunity.

"The criminals are not being punished. It's a grave situation," he
said. "If society does not punish them, God will."

He also sees a bit of religious hypocrisy among his flock.

Some of those involved in the drug war turn to God for protection as well.

"They go to church, but it is not faith they practice. It's
ignorance, a type of magic. They seek protection, but ignore the
church," Blanco said.

Has the church itself failed?

"We have to see the errors that have been made," Blanco said. "It's
not the fault of the church alone, but of society."