Pope John Paul II's visit to Central America underscores the Church's new role in the region. As the stark disparities between rich and poor grow, activist priests and prelates alike are finding themselves drawn ever deeper into the region's economic battlefield. PNS associate editor Mary Jo McConahay has reported from Central America for over a decade.

GUATEMALA CITY -- Pope John Paul II, whose last trip to Central America is remembered for his scolding of a prominent liberation theologian, is bringing a new message of reconciliation to largely Catholic Central America.

After years of civil war that cost 200,000 lives, peace has failed to deliver the long-promised prosperity and social stability. As poverty and hunger spread, the Church, mediator at the peace tables, finds itself drawn increasingly into the region's new battlefield -- the economy. Activist priests are increasingly denouncing the stark disparities between rich and poor. High Church officials, following the pope's own pronouncements, are calling on governments to show greater compassion to the poor.

Yet as bitterness and anger replace the optimism of the early 1990s, the pope's call for reconciliation may be too difficult for millions in the region to swallow.

Today Nicaragua's capital, Managua, glitters with new restaurants and computer stores, while United Nations figures show 74 percent of the population live below poverty level, and 60 percent are jobless. Months of terrorist bombings in Catholic churches and violent student protests demanding more money for education contribute to the disquiet.

In El Salvador, labor protests have turned increasingly belligerent, even violent. The new National Civilian Police, mandated in 1992 peace accords, has failed to control accelerating crime. Residents of some urban neighborhoods say they are more afraid to walk the streets than in the worst days of the 13 year civil war.

But it is here in Guatemala, Central America's largest country (pop. 10.5 million) with the most powerful economy, that reconciliation may prove most elusive. In Guatemala City, the wealthy live behind gated, fortress-like homes much like their counterparts in Miami and Los Angeles. Like cities throughout the region, the population has doubled in a decade from refugees fleeing rural misery. Their tin and paper houses perch precariously on the gorges that rim the city. Government and UN figures show some 65 percent of usable land nationwide remains in the hands of just 2.2 percent of the population. Over 77 percent of the population live below the poverty line.

Beyond the poverty indicators, Guatemala remains mired in the longest running insurgency in Latin America despite four years of peace negotiations. The key obstacle remains the country's conservative establishment which opposes a social and economic accord for land reform. On the eve of the Pope's visit, rebels warned ominously in a communique that "any step backward will not be our responsibility."

The pope is certain to urge renewed talks to end what he calls Guatemala's "almost endemic violence." But how effective his advocacy for the poor can be in a country where the government has long viewed the Church as subversive is not clear. And far from attempting to play down its earlier activist role, the Church is underscoring it.

Last week, Archbishop Prospero Penados announced the publication of a martyrology listing hundreds of unarmed religious killed for having "opted for the poor" over the last 35 years. Penados said the accounting was requested by the pope, and will be presented at a papal mass.

Last year bishops launched a program for "The Recovery of Historical Memory," an attempt to encourage persons to recount the horrors of the last 35 years in every village, most of which remain unrecorded. Some 400 clergy and pastoral agents have fanned out across the countryside to record villagers testimony. Radio announcements invite listeners to "come to your local parish" to denounce abuse by members of "any armed force, military, police or guerrillas."

Bishop Juan Gerardi, Archdiocese Human rights Officer director, insists the project is not political, but aimed at demonstrating "why we arrived at this situation of violence -- so we may see what failed.

"If we say let's erase the past and start over, we will find a similar situation presenting itself in the future, the barbarities will return," Gerardi warns.

The Pope's conservative attitude toward mixing religious and political roles is well known but so far, the positions of the Guatemalan churchmen appear to have his endorsement. His most significant act could be to underscore the Church's support for Guatemala's majority indigenous population whose incomes and life expectancy remain far below those of non-Indians. In 1992, Guatemalan bishops issued a document apologizing for the Church's historical injustices against Indians. Today, Church offices support exhumation by forensic scientists of mass graves, where Indians assassinated by army or paramilitary patrols were buried by the hundreds in recent years.