In this view, we are talking with Father Ivan Torres of Our Lord of Mercy in Hatch and Our Lady of All Nations in Rincon. Father Ivan is very active within the community and truly cares for those under his charge. If you are ever in Hatch, take time out of your trip to visit Our Lord of Mercy; it's genuinely a peaceful parish.
In the heart of New Mexico’s Hatch Valley, where the sun beats down on fields of green chiles and small communities pulse with life, Father Ivan Torres serves as a spiritual anchor. As pastor of Our Lord of Mercy in Hatch, Our Lady of All Nations in Rincon, and several mission churches, this 33-year-old priest is a vibrant presence, his black cassock a striking symbol of his unwavering commitment to Christ and his flock. Born and raised in Las Cruces, Father Ivan’s path to the priesthood is one of deep faith, cultural pride, and a mission to bridge divides in a changing world.
A Hometown Calling
Father Ivan’s roots run deep in Las Cruces, where he was shaped by family, faith, and the Cathedral of the Immaculate Heart of Mary. “I was born and raised at the cathedral. I was baptized there November 8th, 1992. I received my first holy communion there in the year 2000. I was confirmed there in 2008, April 29th, Feast of St. Catherine of Siena, and then ordained priest in that same cathedral in June 19th, 2020,” he recalls with a warmth that reflects his lifelong bond with the place. His journey to the priesthood began in high school, sparked by a profound moment during a retreat. “I really felt God invite me to be a fisher of men, to join him and to be as a priest,” he says, his voice steady with conviction.
After graduating from New Mexico State University and discerning his vocation, Father Ivan was ordained in 2020, just as the world grappled with a pandemic. Now, five years later, he oversees multiple parishes in the Hatch Valley, a region known for its migrant farming communities and tight-knit spirit. His ministry is a whirlwind of activity—five Masses across a weekend, including a vigil, and constant travel between churches. “You’re driving everywhere,” the interviewer notes, likening him to a “circuit priest” from the Old West. Father Ivan laughs, adding, “I pretend that my car’s a horse all the time.”
The Cassock: A Symbol of Unity
One of the most striking aspects of Father Ivan’s presence is his traditional cassock, a garment that draws curious glances in grocery stores and village meetings alike. Why does he wear it? “The cassock is just the traditional garb for the diocesan priest for the priesthood itself,” he explains. “It’s meant to symbolize the unity of the priest’s life. How I don’t have two different lives. I’m not a priest sometimes and not other times, but I’m one.” He points to its rich symbolism: “The black of the clerics is a symbol of our death. St. Paul says, ‘I live no longer, but Christ lives in me.’… Traditionally also has 33 buttons for 33 years of Christ’s life.”
Beyond its spiritual weight, the cassock is practical and, surprisingly, comfortable. “It’s really hot here in the summer, so you wear shorts underneath, you got the nice wind in there,” he says with a chuckle. More importantly, it serves as a visible witness. “When you see a priest or religious, you’re meant to see Christ and you’re meant to see a radical witness of eternity and what we’re called to,” he emphasizes. In a world often distracted by the temporary, Father Ivan’s cassock is a bold reminder of the eternal.
A Vibrant Community
The Hatch Valley, with its 1,600 residents, is a place of hard work and deep faith. “The people are really generous. They’re very gentle, they’re very welcoming,” Father Ivan says, describing a community that reveres the priesthood with almost overwhelming trust. When he arrived, parishioners urged him to make changes, saying, “Whatever you want to do, we know you’ll change things anyway, so just change it now.” He pushed back gently, insisting, “Your voice matters too. Let’s figure it out together.”
This year alone, Our Lord of Mercy has celebrated 10 weddings, with 45 confirmations and 51 first communions on the horizon. The youth ministry thrives, a testament to the parish’s vitality. Yet challenges remain. As a migrant farming community, Hatch faces shifting dynamics—economic pressures, cultural changes, and a lack of formal education. “We’re not really the most educated schooling-wise,” Father Ivan notes. “We’re a community who’s worked very hard most of their life, who’s generous, who knows how to sacrifice.” Distributing books at Christmas, a tradition in some parishes, often falls flat here. Instead, faith is lived through action, community, and presence.
Language barriers also pose a challenge. With a majority Spanish-speaking population, Father Ivan grapples with uniting diverse communities. “How do we worship together so that we can actually live together as well when we have these different languages?” he asks, a question echoing across many U.S. parishes.
Bridging Faiths and Building Community
Hatch is home to multiple churches, a contrast to more uniformly Catholic towns like Valentine, Texas. Father Ivan is candid about the complexities of ecumenism in a small town. “I’m not sure that we really know what ecumenism is in our parts of the world,” he admits. Instead, he focuses on shared community spaces—village council meetings, school boards, and a local coalition of nonprofits. “I do my best to go to school board meetings, my office manager and I, and so we do our best to participate in the school systems and wherever our people are at,” he says. By showing up where families and youth are, he builds bridges not through theological debates but through shared care for the common good.
His dream for Hatch is a renewed sense of community, with the church at its heart. “I would love for that to be the reality in which this is where we gather, the calendar year of the village revolves around the saints, and it revolves around the life of grace and faith,” he envisions. For the parish, practical needs like a larger, renovated church loom large, but Father Ivan trusts in gradual progress.
Evangelizing in a Changing World
Evangelization, especially among transient farm workers, is a pressing concern. Many workers, often young men without families, face grueling schedules with little time for Mass. “They don’t really have Sundays off at all either,” Father Ivan notes. “They’re just here to work, make some money, and then leave.” His approach is pragmatic: first, strengthen the faithful already in the pews. “How do I take care of my in-house pieces first and those who are coming here willingly and how do I strengthen them in their faith, give them the nourishment they need?” he asks. From there, he hopes to empower the community to reach out.
For Father Ivan, evangelization is about presence—reclaiming cultural spaces like Halloween, which he insists is rooted in Catholic tradition. “Let’s not hide in our houses as Catholics, but let’s claim it. Let’s claim the culture,” he urges. His youth group organizes events at schools, and a weekly high school club keeps the church visible. “Sometimes the only sermon people hear is seeing what you do and how you do it,” the interviewer observes, to which Father Ivan agrees: “That’s probably very true.”
A Message to the World
If given the chance to address the world, Father Ivan’s message is simple yet profound: “Christ came that we may have life and have it to the full. And there is nowhere else that you’ll feel the fullness of this life… This is where that joy is lived and found. So come and live it.” It’s a call to embrace the faith not as a set of rules but as a path to flourishing, rooted in the love of a Savior who knows what it takes to make us whole.
Father Ivan Torres is more than a priest; he’s a son of the Hatch Valley, a wearer of the cassock, and a bridge-builder in a world that craves connection. Through his tireless service, he’s showing that faith isn’t just preached—it’s lived, one Mass, one meeting, one smile at a time.