A Journey to the Edge of the Archdiocese – Tomales, CA
By Saul Perez
It was 5 a.m. on Sunday, April 6, 2025, when I woke up and took a deep breath—realizing the day had finally come to visit the most remote parish in the Archdiocese: the Church of the Assumption in Tomales, California. I knew it would be a long day of driving, especially since I was starting from Riverbank, in the Central Valley.
My first stop was in San Francisco, where I picked up a few materials to host a Know Your Rights workshop, requested by Father Juan Manuel Lopez for his parishioners who needed information about their rights as immigrants. From there, I picked up my friends Jerry Sharp, his wife Melanie Salazar-Sharp, and their toddler, and we set off toward the Marin coast. We crossed the Golden Gate Bridge and drove through scenic, rolling hills dotted with cows and sheep, slowly making our way to Tomales.
When we arrived at the church, we weren’t sure if we had missed the start of the Spanish Mass. What we saw was Father Juan Manuel celebrating the liturgy with deep reverence—wearing traditional purple vestments, facing ad orientem, and fostering a prayerful atmosphere that made us pause. We soon realized this was actually the conclusion of the English Mass. What stood out most was how warmly Father welcomed us when he saw me and my friends in the back. He introduced us at the end of both the English and Spanish Masses, explaining the purpose of our visit to the parish community.
After Mass, I had the chance to speak with several parishioners. Many travel 30 to 45 minutes each Sunday to attend Mass—some even coming from as far as Sonoma County. It was a testament to the strong community formed around this rural parish.
Following the workshop, I invited Father to join us for lunch. He led us to a nearby coastal cliff where we dined at Dillon Beach Coastal Kitchen, enjoying breathtaking views of the ocean. Surfers, beachgoers, and even a lone tent pitched in the sand reminded us how unique and peaceful this part of California truly is.
Our waitress happened to be a young adult from Father’s parish who hadn’t seen him in a while due to work. Her face lit up with joy when she recognized him. Conversation flowed easily while lunching, and out of nowhere, we asked Father about the donkey he planned to ride for Palm Sunday. That simple question led to a story none of us will forget.
For some time, Father had been searching for a donkey for his annual Palm Sunday reenactment of the procession of Jesus into Jerusalem. One day, he came across a ranch with several donkeys and asked around, only to be warned that the owner—George—had once been very involved in the parish but had since grown distant and was now openly hostile to priests. Despite the warning, Father decided to visit George anyway.
When he first approached George, the response was blunt: “What do you want, Father?” Father explained his need for a donkey to reenact the Palm Sunday Gospel. George refused, but told him to come back another day. Father returned several times, but George was never there. Eventually, Father gave up.
But one day, as he was driving home late at night, Father felt a strong internal prompting—what he later called the Holy Spirit—to visit George again. This time, the mood was different. George was in hospice care, frail and no longer speaking to his family, and nearing the end of his life. One of his children allowed Father inside. Father gently called George’s name, and George, recognizing him, opened his eyes and smiled. When Father asked if he wanted the Last Rites, George nodded.
Father rushed back to the parish to retrieve the holy oils and returned to offer the sacrament. Soon after, George passed away in peace.
We were moved—and of course, had to ask: “So, did you get the donkey from George as his dying wish?”
Father laughed and said: “no!” And continued the story. After George’s burial, his son thanked Father and promised to give him a donkey. But the family eventually sold everything—and never gave him one. We pressed further: “Then how did you get the donkey?”
Father casually replied, “Oh, we just bought this one near Merced.” We all burst out laughing.
Before we left, Father invited us to meet and ride Bethfage—the donkey he had eventually acquired. It was the perfect lighthearted end to a deeply meaningful day.
At the start, I had been dreading the long drive. But by the end, I felt transformed. What began as a work trip ended as a journey of grace, friendship, and renewed faith—proof that even in the most remote corners of the Archdiocese, Christ is present, and His shepherds are still walking with their people.
Saul Perez is Social Action & Digital Media coordinator, Office of Human Life & Dignity, Archdiocese of San Francisco. He leads the archdiocesan Immigration Ministry.