Society
Of The Divine Word

Why “Cradle of the Verbite Mission”?

“Pa’iha: cradle of the Verbite mission in Paraguay” is not merely a geographical reference, but a historical and spiritual affirmation. Pa’iha was the first place where the Divine Word Missionaries (SVD) established themselves in the country, marking the beginning of a mission among Indigenous peoples. On January 28, 1910, the first three missionaries arrived: Fr. Francisco Müller, SVD, Brother Emiliano (Emil) Verhagen, SVD, and Brother José (Gotardo) Weyer, SVD. With few possessions, strong faith, and a deep desire to serve, they took the first steps of a mission born in the simplicity of the forest. From then on, Pa’iha became the first missionary center of the Congregation in Paraguay—the place where it all began.

Calling it the “cradle” acknowledges that in Pa’iha, the first Verbite missionary experience in Paraguay was born. It was the starting point where the mission began to take shape, with its first steps, challenges, and fruits. From that humble origin, the missionary work spread to other regions of the country, but it all began in Pa’iha.

Memory and Gratitude in Pa’iha

Along the dusty paths of Pa’iha, where the red earth holds the echoes of ancient prayers, July 12, 2025, was more than a celebration—it was a living memory of the mission.

Under the wide sky and green hills, lay Verbite collaborators, accompanied by priests of the Divine Word Missionaries, held a pilgrimage to commemorate the 150th anniversary of the Society’s founding worldwide.

It was no coincidence that Pa’iha—although the mission is no longer physically present there—was chosen as one of the locations for this commemoration. Its soil, marked by the footprints of missionaries and farmers, is more than geography: it is sacred ground. The forest there was not only vegetation—it was a place of silence for listening, a refuge for prayer, and a site of resistance amid neglect. Each curve of the road still seems to hold the whispers of humble visits, shared tereré, and a Word sown without spectacle.

Fr. Lucio Godoy, SVD, in a calm voice, shared a simple yet profound truth before the Mass:

“The Divine Word mission in Pa’iha, Puerto Bogarín, Curuguaty, Caruperá, and now in Encarnación, has been a story of silent dedication, of patient love for the simplest people, of fidelity to the Gospel when no one else was watching.”

Missionaries—some from distant lands with hard-to-pronounce names and open hearts—were not deterred by fear, the isolation of the forest, or vast distances. Their strength came not from numbers, but from the certainty that God walks with His people: in every gesture, every visit, every embrace given without expecting anything in return.

Even though some missions, like Pa’iha, have physically closed, their soul remains. What is left is not failure, but seed. Because where love was sown, the Word lives on—in faces, in collective memory, in the community that remembers and gives thanks. Memory is not nostalgia—it is promise. And as long as someone remembers and walks, the mission continues.

The Old Church

An old photograph of the original church, frozen in time, holds the whispers of the past. It was built two years before the missionaries departed. Before they left, they completed it and left it standing—a sign of faith that doesn’t crumble with time. It was officially inaugurated in 1922, as described by Fr. Lucio, whose life has been a faithful dedication to the Indigenous mission of the Paraguayan SVD Province.

But long before that, the mission was already alive: there was a blacksmith shop, a carpentry workshop, and in 1918, a brickyard producing bricks and tiles from local clay. Thus the temple was built, replacing the early wooden chapels and the old church that barely sheltered the faithful.

Then came silence. In 1924—just two years later—the missionaries left, although the people didn’t want them to. However, the lack of personnel and limited resources from the diocese made it impossible to continue. The church stood abandoned—but never forgotten.

Today, only a photo remains as witness to its presence and story. Sometimes, ruins are not the end, but memories that resist time.

A History of Faith and Service

During the gathering, Fr. Lucio opened a chapter of history not written in books but in the old cross—a silent witness to the mission. He recalled how, decades ago, brave religious came from around the world with little more than a worn Bible and a willing heart:

“They relied on deep faith. They didn’t allow fear or limitations to defeat them. Their commitment left a living mark on the hearts of many communities.”

The challenges were immense: inhospitable terrain, unfamiliar cultures, extreme poverty. But faith became a bridge, and the Gospel, shared bread. Though some missions like Caruperá and Curuguaty also closed, what remains is the pastoral discernment process: knowing when to stay, and when to pass the baton.