Beloved Nicaraguan priest passes away years after surviving acid attack
Father Mario de Jesús Guevara Calero, a well-known priest in Nicaragua who once survived a brutal attack inside a cathedral, died on Sunday at the age of 66, as CNA reports.
Guevara, who spent his latter years mentoring seminarians, passed on after a long illness, closing a chapter defined by forgiveness, devotion, and unyielding service under hostile political conditions.
Ordained to serve, Guevara led ministries in various parishes before taking up the role of spiritual director at La Purísima Archdiocesan Major Seminary — a position he held during years of escalating Church oppression in Nicaragua.
Acid Attack Shook Church Amid Political Tensions
His name reached international headlines after Dec. 5, 2018, when a Russian national, Elis Leonidovna Gonn, doused him with acid as he heard confessions inside the Managua cathedral. The wounds from that ambush left him seriously injured, requiring multiple surgeries and extended medical care. Any normal man would have sought justice—Guevara chose forgiveness.
“May God our Lord grant Father Mario Guevara to be already enjoying holy heaven,” said researcher Martha Patricia Molina, who documented state-led religious persecution in her report “Nicaragua: A Persecuted Church.”
The context of the attack was highly political. At the time, the Ortega-Murillo regime had intensified pressures against Christian leaders, restricting thousands of religious processions and launching over a thousand documented attacks on the Catholic Church, according to Molina’s research.
Faith, Pain, and Silent Resistance
Rather than silence his message, the attack amplified Guevara’s deeply Catholic witness. Even after the Sandinista-led government inexplicably released and expelled Gonn in 2019, Guevara maintained his spiritual mission, eschewing bitterness. No marches, no fires, no riots—just an old-school display of forgiveness and faith.
Leading his funeral Mass on Oct. 13, Cardinal Leopoldo Brenes recalled Father Guevara’s unwavering commitment, saying he served his parishioners "with total generosity" even during adversity. “In difficult situations, but it's beautiful [he did so] without complaining, but with dedication,” Brenes noted.
The Cardinal described Guevara in a way most seminaries today would only dream of producing: sincere, prayerful, and unshaken by political storms. His last months brought physical decline, but not defeat.
Ministry That Spoke Louder Than Words
Cardinal Brenes recounted visiting Guevara near death. “These last months, he was able to go through Calvary, his ailments like a street [paved with] bitterness… but at the end, he was smiling,” he said. Near his bedside: a rosary and the Liturgy of the Hours—a picture modern culture doesn’t quite understand anymore.
Not one for grand speeches, Guevara preached with his life. “Preached to us, not with grand words, but with his life,” the Cardinal said. “And what was that power but the person of Jesus himself?” Powerful words from a man who saw his colleague embody Christ, not just preach about Him.
Guevara’s ministry spanned decades and included assignments in towns like San Rafael del Sur, where, according to Brenes, the faithful remember him for his relentless service even in Nicaragua’s most turbulent years.
A Symbol Of Enduring Faith In Nicaragua
In a nation where public worship often comes with political consequences, Guevara’s resilience became symbolic. Unlike the chaos of secular ideologies that pit faith against progress, Guevara lived what Christians might call a redemptive suffering—a path unfashionable in woke circles, but timeless nonetheless.
Cardinal Brenes emphasized that Guevara’s power rested not in status or rhetoric, but in Jesus. Say what you want about religious men — this one walked the walk. No self-pity. No media crusades. Just sacrificial service until the end.
While certain world powers promote “inclusive” ideologies that punish public displays of faith, Guevara operated under a regime that regarded rosaries and homilies with suspicion. Still, he answered to a higher authority.
Legacy Built On Grace, Not Grievance
Guevara’s choice to forgive his attacker reflects a depth of character sorely lacking in today’s grievance-obsessed society. The same Nicaragua that restricted more than 16,500 religious ceremonies also produced a priest who left no room for hate in his final days. That's the paradox.
In an era where some countries elevate victimhood to a status, Guevara never claimed it. He lived as a man of service, endured as a man of faith, and died regarded as a man of peace. And that—lest we forget—is the kind of leadership civilization used to admire.





