We arrived after dinner on Thursday night. We were already tired from working on construction/destruction and then doing sports ministry. To go to a church service in the middle of a vacant lot, at night, where there had never been a church service before...let me just say it was out of my comfort zone. But I signed up for this trip, I didn't do so lightly, I'm all in....it'll be great. (period)
What I didn't expect was that it would be great! (exclamation mark)
We arrived at exactly the time they said the service was to be. We had Pastor Eric's daughter with us so she jumped out and walked to the wooden steps next to the cinder block wall. The steps, built by Eric's own hands, had no safety rail as led lead down into what will be the basement of this ambitious church. He told me that he ran out of money for materials to build a rail but the steps are sturdy and look like a professional built them. It is then that Eric tells us that he is also a carpenter.
The basement will be where Eric and his family will live while the church remains at street level above them. At the base of the stairs is the partially graded lot with wide trenches which are ready for the foundations of the house and church. Eric has filled in a land bridge where people can walk across the trench at the base of the stairs...a few people are there sitting on the twenty or so metal folding chairs that are to be brought up and down the stairs for each service. I am almost certain that the number of chairs is dictated by the number they can fit into the truck after all of the other equipment is loaded. There is a carpet laid on the dirt to act as a stage. On it are a drum set, a guitar, a bass guitar, an amp, and two microphones. Power has been installed and activated at the base of the wall dug into the hill nearest the street. Directly opposite this wall is a chain link fence that marks the end of the property. Because of the way the hillside slopes, the ground the lot is like a life sized diorama with three walls rising up about twenty feet, and no wall at all where the lot faces the valley. As the band started to warm up, I couldn't help but think this was like a miniature amphitheater that faced the small valley in this churchless little neighborhood.
And then it began...Nadia, Eric's wife was at the microphone and she started to pray...in Spanish (of course) but with my limited Spanish (apologies to Senor Edwards y Senora Fields for not paying better attention in class) I could tell this was more than a prayer. The first words she spoke were with the passion of someone who was pleading for her children's lives. She invited the people who could hear her to come to the church service where we would worship the Lord. I am fairly sure that she announced the beginning of the new church that would meet every Sunday morning in this place and then she named the street. All of this broadcast across the valley and into the surrounding neighborhoods. People began poking their heads out of windows, coming to their patios, and some of these people came down the steps. Our group allowed the people of the community to sit in the chairs while we sat or stood around the edges of the lot. Some people sat on the broken boulders that lined the edge opposite the street, others sat on the ground with their feet down in the trenches, still others sat on the steps. In a church like this, formality be darned.
When the band, which consisted entirely of members of his family, Eric on Bass, Nadia singing, his daughter on guitar, and his son playing the drums, began playing the music filled the valley. They sang a song or two and then prayed...that prayer led into another song without stopping. I only wish I could have understood all of it. They played "Open The Eyes of Our Heart Lord" and our group knew it in English. It was a great moment when both languages were being sung simultaneously. There were many wonderful moments during the singing and I even noticed one of the older ladies wiping a tear from her eyes. Then they offered the platform to Pastor Mark and our church. With a little impromptu adjustment it was decided that Pastor Matt would play the guitar, and they urged Jake (my son...for those who don't know) to come play the drums. He walked up willingly (grinned nervously at me while I gave him the two thumbs up) and sat at the drum set. As an aside, Jake can play the hand drums. He regularly helps keep the beat for youth group...but this was a full fledged drum set...with sticks! This is not something he has done before. He sat and played along with the songs. At the risk of sounding like a too-proud papa...he did amazingly awesome! We silly Americans played a few songs that got everyone standing and dancing and doing arm movements and wiggles. Still more people came...including a group of boys who have been playing soccer with us all week.
While all of this was going on the streets were alive with motorcycles driving by, kids playing, dogs barking, someone near the field burning their trash, and even a man on a horse clopping by. All the while the worship band played, we sang songs, and Mark got ready to preach.
Pastor Mark took the carpet "stage" and began preaching to those in attendance. I took note of the time simply because when he asked Eric how long he should plan on speaking he was told..."Oh, 45 minutes or an hour should be fine." (Mark had informed us that people in Latin countries feel cheated if they don't get a sermon that is lengthy, and multiple hours is not uncommon.) He spoke about being a missionary. He spoke about some of the trials that he and his family had in the field. He spoke about an honest to goodness miracle that he himself experienced while traveling. He had the audience join in the sermon by commenting on things that happened to him by saying together, 'How bad!" (for example, my car broke down...how bad) Then he would say, 'No! That's good!' (I didn't know the bridge was out and I would have crashed...how good) and the attendees would repeat, 'How good!' I don't think this was one of the actual examples because I am not sure what he saying...it was entirely in Spanish! He did this through many examples of his life as a missionary.
After 45 minutes Mark asked a question and five men and boys raised their hands and then walked up to the front. Some of them the teenagers who have been playing sports with us all week long. Eric came up and he and Mark both prayed with these people who had just dedicated their lives to Christ while the rest of the people laid hands on them. It was quite a powerful moment to witness.
It dawned on me that no one looking at this plot of bare dirt would ever say, "That is a church." But I think that is the point. The church is not a building. It's not pews and organs. It's not even walls or a floor in this case. The church is people working together to serve God and do His will and sing His praises! In fact, I think I will be a little sad when Eric and Nadia put a building on this place. I think I like that everyone gathered was singing in a place where they weren't being restrained by four walls and a ceiling!
What I didn't expect was that it would be great! (exclamation mark)
We arrived at exactly the time they said the service was to be. We had Pastor Eric's daughter with us so she jumped out and walked to the wooden steps next to the cinder block wall. The steps, built by Eric's own hands, had no safety rail as led lead down into what will be the basement of this ambitious church. He told me that he ran out of money for materials to build a rail but the steps are sturdy and look like a professional built them. It is then that Eric tells us that he is also a carpenter.
The basement will be where Eric and his family will live while the church remains at street level above them. At the base of the stairs is the partially graded lot with wide trenches which are ready for the foundations of the house and church. Eric has filled in a land bridge where people can walk across the trench at the base of the stairs...a few people are there sitting on the twenty or so metal folding chairs that are to be brought up and down the stairs for each service. I am almost certain that the number of chairs is dictated by the number they can fit into the truck after all of the other equipment is loaded. There is a carpet laid on the dirt to act as a stage. On it are a drum set, a guitar, a bass guitar, an amp, and two microphones. Power has been installed and activated at the base of the wall dug into the hill nearest the street. Directly opposite this wall is a chain link fence that marks the end of the property. Because of the way the hillside slopes, the ground the lot is like a life sized diorama with three walls rising up about twenty feet, and no wall at all where the lot faces the valley. As the band started to warm up, I couldn't help but think this was like a miniature amphitheater that faced the small valley in this churchless little neighborhood.
And then it began...Nadia, Eric's wife was at the microphone and she started to pray...in Spanish (of course) but with my limited Spanish (apologies to Senor Edwards y Senora Fields for not paying better attention in class) I could tell this was more than a prayer. The first words she spoke were with the passion of someone who was pleading for her children's lives. She invited the people who could hear her to come to the church service where we would worship the Lord. I am fairly sure that she announced the beginning of the new church that would meet every Sunday morning in this place and then she named the street. All of this broadcast across the valley and into the surrounding neighborhoods. People began poking their heads out of windows, coming to their patios, and some of these people came down the steps. Our group allowed the people of the community to sit in the chairs while we sat or stood around the edges of the lot. Some people sat on the broken boulders that lined the edge opposite the street, others sat on the ground with their feet down in the trenches, still others sat on the steps. In a church like this, formality be darned.
When the band, which consisted entirely of members of his family, Eric on Bass, Nadia singing, his daughter on guitar, and his son playing the drums, began playing the music filled the valley. They sang a song or two and then prayed...that prayer led into another song without stopping. I only wish I could have understood all of it. They played "Open The Eyes of Our Heart Lord" and our group knew it in English. It was a great moment when both languages were being sung simultaneously. There were many wonderful moments during the singing and I even noticed one of the older ladies wiping a tear from her eyes. Then they offered the platform to Pastor Mark and our church. With a little impromptu adjustment it was decided that Pastor Matt would play the guitar, and they urged Jake (my son...for those who don't know) to come play the drums. He walked up willingly (grinned nervously at me while I gave him the two thumbs up) and sat at the drum set. As an aside, Jake can play the hand drums. He regularly helps keep the beat for youth group...but this was a full fledged drum set...with sticks! This is not something he has done before. He sat and played along with the songs. At the risk of sounding like a too-proud papa...he did amazingly awesome! We silly Americans played a few songs that got everyone standing and dancing and doing arm movements and wiggles. Still more people came...including a group of boys who have been playing soccer with us all week.
While all of this was going on the streets were alive with motorcycles driving by, kids playing, dogs barking, someone near the field burning their trash, and even a man on a horse clopping by. All the while the worship band played, we sang songs, and Mark got ready to preach.
Pastor Mark took the carpet "stage" and began preaching to those in attendance. I took note of the time simply because when he asked Eric how long he should plan on speaking he was told..."Oh, 45 minutes or an hour should be fine." (Mark had informed us that people in Latin countries feel cheated if they don't get a sermon that is lengthy, and multiple hours is not uncommon.) He spoke about being a missionary. He spoke about some of the trials that he and his family had in the field. He spoke about an honest to goodness miracle that he himself experienced while traveling. He had the audience join in the sermon by commenting on things that happened to him by saying together, 'How bad!" (for example, my car broke down...how bad) Then he would say, 'No! That's good!' (I didn't know the bridge was out and I would have crashed...how good) and the attendees would repeat, 'How good!' I don't think this was one of the actual examples because I am not sure what he saying...it was entirely in Spanish! He did this through many examples of his life as a missionary.
After 45 minutes Mark asked a question and five men and boys raised their hands and then walked up to the front. Some of them the teenagers who have been playing sports with us all week long. Eric came up and he and Mark both prayed with these people who had just dedicated their lives to Christ while the rest of the people laid hands on them. It was quite a powerful moment to witness.
It dawned on me that no one looking at this plot of bare dirt would ever say, "That is a church." But I think that is the point. The church is not a building. It's not pews and organs. It's not even walls or a floor in this case. The church is people working together to serve God and do His will and sing His praises! In fact, I think I will be a little sad when Eric and Nadia put a building on this place. I think I like that everyone gathered was singing in a place where they weren't being restrained by four walls and a ceiling!
Wow. That is all I can say...except To God Be The Glory!
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