Frederick
Buechner wrote, “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep
gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” I wonder if he had any idea how
much it would be quoted. It has become the go-to phrase of people writing,
preaching, and teaching about mission, vocation, leadership and spiritual
growth. I cite it all the time.
It
is understandable. Buechner beautifully put into one sentence what many of us
use many more words trying to express. Vocation, call, purpose – the tiny seed
planted in each of us that wears on us, rubs against the heart, pushing the
mind, and drives us to non-complacency – is often difficult to describe. Our
limited vocabulary and lack of understanding of the soul makes it difficult to
articulate. But we all know it’s there. We can feel it even if we can’t explain
it.
An essential role of the Christian community is to
help people (one another) to discover, articulate, and live into the deep soul
longing that God plants within us. In what ways can and does the church do
this? I asked this question to a few colleagues across the PCUSA. Here are some
of the responses I received:
By providing a safe space. There
is this Hebrew verb “barah” meaning to create space – or to make wide
what was narrow. For instance, in Psalm 4:1 “you gave me room when I was
in distress” – God, the Psalmist understands, does not remove fear or injustice.
God, instead, promises space to live into the injustice, the fear, the
unknowing. Through worship, study, prayer, and even silence, the church, like
God, is called to make those narrow spaces wide – to be welcoming of all sorts
of people, especially people who are broken and need healing, who need space to
authentically encounter God no matter what their current mental, physical,
spiritual state. DH
Through
seeing one another as whole and holy without the need to change or fix anyone.
Treating each person as a unique manifestation of God, as the beloved.
Behold Christ in one another! Naming and claiming the unique gifting and
call of each person and inviting its expression within community and outside of
community. Many members one body. Creating opportunities for those unique
gifts and calls to be nurtured, strengthened formed and expressed in the life
of community and outside the community while helping to dissolve the
distinction between inside and outside. Creating a community of
accountability and a process by which each of us can discern our call and
passion while always being the wounded healer. Creating developmentally
appropriate paths for soul formation that allow each person to discern what
they need to know and experience in order to grow and become uniquely them. JH
I think the church lives out the deep
longing of God by loving people in practical ways: Turning around on a Sunday
morning and asking another to coffee. Just inquiring "what's going on in
your life?" and really meaning it. Offering to take someone to the
airport, doctor's appt., grocery store, by bringing warm chicken soup. It's
these simple acts of kindness that demonstrates the deep heart of God for God's
people. BW
The church is a gathering place not only
for the worship of the whole, but for growth and study in small groups, as
well. From Sunday school, youth group and circle meetings to Mission
outings and retreats - both close to home and abroad, the Christian community
explores God's kingdom, drawing individuals into action. It is in these
smaller groups that individuals have the opportunity to reflect about and be
drawn into speech about their faith and service. LS
“Where the hunger of the world beyond you meets the hunger
of the world within you: may you find yourself in this place.”
This is a blessing from a devotional book by Jan Richardson, In the Sanctuary of Women (p.32). (I
am grateful to my dear friend and colleague, Betty Meadows for giving me this
book. It is not only spiritually appealing, but also thought-provoking.) The
entry that includes this blessing draws from Buechner’s famous quote, “The
place God calls you is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep
hunger meet.” As a life and leadership coach, I find Richardson’s writing about
hunger to be very engaging.
Richardson’s questions are helpful to leaders who aspire to
grow in their depth of being and leadership ability.
What are you hungry for?
What do you desire, and what desire lies beneath
that desire – or within it?
What does your wanting teach you about yourself;
about what you love, what you fear, what is possible?
How does your longing meet the world’s longing?
How do you pray with your desire?
Many leaders have trouble answering these types of
questions, myself included. My answer to “what do you desire?” is often “to
have clarity about what I desire.” Sometimes we think we know what we want, but
by asking the harder questions, we discover that what we think we want is only
surface desire. If we dig deeper, we discover deep gladness.
It can be difficult to lead a group of people (like a
congregation) into understanding God’s desire for them until we have a better
idea of God’s desire for ourselves. People look to their leader(s) for guidance
in discerning and following God’s will. Spiritual discernment doesn’t come
naturally for most of us. We are accustomed to having someone give us the
answers and tell us what we are supposed to believe. How can we tell someone else what they
believe, or what their deepest desires are? Of course, we cannot. We can ask
good questions and model discernment.
Discernment is a practice. One cannot simply read books on
how to discern and then teach it to someone else. A leader who wants his/her
parishioners to be equipped for spiritual discernment has to practice this in
his/her own life first. We need to be able to ask ourselves questions like the
ones Richardson suggests. The gift of discernment is that we do not have to
have the answers; in fact, we cannot have them, because everyone has to answer
these kinds of questions for themselves.
Where the hunger of the world beyond you meets the hunger of
the world within you—may you find yourself in this place.
A Presbyterian Leader blog post by Rev. Noe
Juarez
There are many families who will be
missing their loved ones this Christmas. It is my hope and prayer that God will
strengthen your faith through this beautiful love story of Marie and Howard Leonhard.
Merry Christmas everyone! Howie, I dedicate this story to you:
Marie’s Love story actually begins at
the age of 68, widowed and a very, very busy, working lady, living in Florida, with a good
job, and a home, she thought she had the world on a string! After raising three wonderful kids and
looking back on her past marriages that kind of left her thinking “being on my
own was the best of all worlds”. She
though those “prince charming romances” and the “happily ever afters” were only
in story books, movies or they only happened to someone else! Any spare time she had was filled with
church work or being involved in club activities. So who needs a man?
Life was
soon on the brink of changing when a letter came in the mail inviting Marie to
her “50th High School Class Reunion” from Pennsylvania. WOW!
How great it would be to see some of the people in our small home town
where she had spent all her school days!! - She thought - “I won’t even know any of them”, “No one will
even recognize me after 50th years”!
1200 miles was a long way to see people who she wouldn’t know and who
would not remember her. Now, she was
thinking of flying 1200 miles to go back to what? Back to who?
Then another thought struck.
Since her daughter Diane lived near Washington
DC with her hubby, 2 teen-age daughters and
her 2 year old daughter Sarah, she thought it would be good to fly to Washington, rent a car
and take Diane, Sarah and the two older girls, Rose and Marie back to her
hometown. That was the clincher, it’s a
done deal!
The day of
the reunion finally arrived and she had more second thoughts about going. But as she walked in the door she heard a
voice at the registration desk saying “Howard Leonhard”. Her ears perked up and she thought “at least
there will be one person there that I will know but only because of my
eavesdropping.” She remembered Howard -
tall, good looking, great athlete.
After registering, when she walked to the door “he” was standing in the
doorway. Trying to be cute, she said “Howard…
I'll bet you don’t remember me, do you?”
There was just a blank stare so she mumbled “Marie”…. what a
difference….. his eyes lit up and he
seemed genuinely happy to see me! After
a few nice words, he went his way and she saw some of the gals that she
recognized so she went off to reconnect with them. You could call it luck or
the Grace of God, but when they were seated for the luncheon, ‘he’ was by her
side. They had a great time and talked
and laughed more than they did in the 12 years of school, more than she had
laughed in a long time. They just seemed to click. The conversations were all about good old Highspire High School, teachers and classmates but
they did learn that they both lost their spouses many years before and had no
attachments.
As they finished lunch, Marie asked Howard if he knew how to
find the Ladies Room. He said, “I’ll
show you”, (Even though he did not know…) taking her arm and leading the
way. What a gentleman! Not to mention the sparks that flew as he
touched her arm! Later in the evening
at the reunion he asked for her address. Marie just happened to have business
cards with her name, address and “e-mail” so she handed him one of those. When the party broke up, Marie really hoped
that he would walk her to her car and they could continue the conversation but
that didn’t happen and she truly thought she would never see him again. From the time the invitation to the reunion
came to that moment, there were no thoughts of making a love connection, the
thought never entered her mind but now she felt like a giddy school girl again.
She just couldn’t get him off her mind.
He really touched her in a way I thought would never happen. but oh well, back to reality and the lonely
hotel room. The next morning she went to
breakfast at one of the local restaurants, hoping that he might wander in but
that didn’t happen either. So she picked
up her daughter and granddaughters and headed back to Washington
and then home to Florida. It was a wonderful visit with family but it felt
like something very important was left undone.
Two days
later back in Fort Lauderdale
she was on the Internet checking messages.
Her eyes lit up when she an e-mail address she didn’t recognize? Could it be?? YUP, it was!! He was happy that she came to the Class
Reunion and really enjoyed her company, so Marie replied with a polite but
friendly answer.
After many, many e-mail messages back and forth, Instant
Messages, phone calls and cards….. one
day he wrote, “I just have to come to Florida
to see where this is heading?” So after
30 days of messages and phone calls, Marie found herself waiting for a plane to
arrive at the airport. What would they
say? How would they act? It was impossible to predict what their
reaction would be when they met face to face and actually “touched”! Looking back, it was unbelievable how they
connected and it seemed as though they had always been meant for each
other. All it took was that first hug
and kiss; and we both knew we had to be together! This was already a lifetime commitment. After 11 wonderful days getting to know all
about each other, the good and the bad, they were back at the airport for his
return to Pennsylvania. Deep inside was the worst fear of Marie’s
life “that they would never see each other again”. How wrong she was. Within a few days of separation and endless
phone calls and e-mails, the subject of wedding bells came up and they were
married 3 months to the day after that 50th class reunion. Their marriage was performed by the local Mayor
at the Leonhard family reunion on Labor Day week-end 2000 in the Park with many
of their children, grandchildren, relatives, in-laws and classmates to wish
them well. Two weeks later we had a
“Celebration of Marriage” at Sunset church in Fort Lauderdale performed by their minister
with a marvelous reception done by their friends.
Was it love
at first sight? You might say that
(after a 50 year separation). Marie
prefered to think that with so many coincidences in a period of 3 months, it
was much more than luck. They truly
believed that only God could have orchestrated such a miracle. Marie writes: “These have truly been the happiest years of
my life.”
Is
everything perfect? Of course not, that
only happens in fairy tales but they found that when two people really love
each other and realize that God’s hand was involved in the union, they can
compromise and work out anything that comes their way.
Is it worth
it? You bet it is!! A good marriage is the best investment anyone
can make!
This past
September Marie and Howie celebrated their Twelfth Wedding Anniversary and now
“Marie is watching over Howie”. As Marie and Howie favorite song says:
There's a
somebody I'm longin' to see, I hope that Marie, turns out to be
Someone who'll watch over me,
I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood,
I know I could, always be good, To one who'll watch over me…
Won't you tell her please to put on some speed…Follow my lead, oh, how I need,
Someone to watch over me”
“I can’t imagine my life without “Howie” and obviously he is
in it for the long haul too”. “It is
truly NEVER too late for happiness!” said Marie before she went into the aternal arms of God.
A Presbyterian Leader Blogpost by Tom M. Trinidad,
Vice-Moderator, 220th General Assembly
I think I might have passed another mid-life milestone. For
the past few years Advent has grown in significance for me. It started with an insight
while reading Karl Barth, of all people, that we are an Advent people—ironic because
Barth wasn’t much for liturgy and the liturgical year.
But Barth’s steady reminder that we are a people determined
by Christ’s advent, a people suspended between Christ’s incarnation and our consummation
to come, transformed the way I looked at the whole year, but especially
Advent-Christmas. I began to “celebrate,” not just “observe” Advent. Then Christmas
was delivered from cynicism to anamnesis—hope grounded in remembering.
But this year a new realization is dawning. I’m tired of
waiting. I could attribute it to fatigue generally; a product of my dual role
as pastor and vice-moderator. Perhaps I’ve grown weary of arguing for Advent as
the solution to the misunderstood so-called “war on Christmas.” Or, as I’ll readily
admit, it is getting increasingly difficult to be creative with the liturgies
this time of year.
But the real issue, I think, is not so much that within
myself I am wearing down, but that there are more things doing the wearing down
in my life. This week a beloved aging relative fell inexplicably for the first
time. Today I learned one of our bridesmaids, together with her husband since
before we were married 15 years ago, is separated from her husband. Last week
20 elementary school children were massacred. Psalm 6 speaks to me like never
before: “Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing; O Lord, heal me, for
my soul also is in deep anguish, while you, O Lord—how long?”
Tonight I am leading an Advent worship service. Sunday is “Christmas
Sunday,” and Monday night is obviously Christmas Eve. But before all that, I
felt my congregation needed to worship deeply in the spirit of Advent. Over the
past month I have spoken with more people whose futures are dangling over the
fiscal cliff, who are facing the holidays for the first time without their
parents or their spouses, whose hearts break over the bittersweet reality that
their children and grandchildren will be with us Sunday and Monday, but not
again until Resurrection Sunday.
I’m tired of all this. I want it to end. Marana tha, Lord Jesus!
What are you waiting for? I’ve concluded that I’m crossing another threshold of
midlife. I’m old enough for parents to fear death, for friends to get divorced,
and to empathize with the trials and tribulations of an ever-deepening pool of
humanity.
I find myself in solidarity with the history of the world
and our salvation narrative. Of the two poles between which we are suspended—Christ’s
first advent and his second—I am affectionately drawn to his second. And it is
this that gives me hope and will allow me to preach come Sunday morning and Monday
night, that, in the words of Romans 13:11-12, “it is now the moment for us to
wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we became
believers; the night is far gone, the day is near.”
“Far gone”? It sure doesn’t seem like it. But the longer it
lasts, the closer our next “day is near.” Herein is hope. My prayer is this:
that as is the case this year, may our lighting of the fourth Advent candle be
brief. Amen.
Curiosity kills the cat, as the old saying goes. My mother used to say this to me when she would get tired of my asking "why." I don't recall ever saying it to my children (though my memory is not always
reliable). I welcomed their curiosity as a process of their development.
Curiosity can be a valuable tool for congregational leaders. If you truly want to know what your parishioners think and feel , asking intentional questions can open doors of communication and understanding. Questioning can have the sense of testing or judging, whereas curiosity is a sincere desire to learn something not already known. For example, a teacher asking a student a question in class is different than a student asking the teacher.
Encouraging others to take leadership and ownership in the vision of the church means giving them opportunity to express their ideas and frustrations. This means taking the time to sit with them and listen attentively, and ask open-ended questions.
Even older members who are no longer able to be physically present have dreams for their church. They also have history that they would love to share if someone asked. Likewise, even the youngest members
have feelings about their church family, what they enjoy about being a part of church activities. A leader that is curious about what is needed for the faith development of the younger disciples will take
the time to ask them and their parents with a heart and mind eager to learn.
Sometimes, the best way we can lead is to spend time with different people, listening and asking questions. This is true not only for new leaders, but maybe even more so for people who have been leading the same congregation for a long time. Long-term leaders may be so familiar that they have lost the gift of curiosity, and assume they already know what people are thinking and feeling and what God's vision is for the church. Fresh or renewed curiosity can help bring new vision and energy.
This year I spent Thanksgiving with family in London. There’s
a lot to do in London, of course, but the one thing I was sure to see was Westminster
Abbey. It was at Westminster Abbey that, from 1643-49, Calvinism and
Christendom converged at a high-watermark.
The Westminster Assembly produced several documents that
would have tremendous influence, especially upon American Presbyterianism.
These include the Directory for Worship, a Confession of Faith, and the Larger
and Shorter Catechisms.
When I discovered the Book of Confessions during my second
year in seminary, I knew that I had found my denominational home as a Reformed
Christian and a member of the Presbyterian Church (USA). But when I discovered
Question 92 from the Westminster Shorter Catechism, it transformed my life.
The opening question and answer in the Shorter Catechism are
perhaps the most famous lines in our Book of Confessions: “What is the chief
end of man? To glorify God and enjoy him forever.” As compelling as this
statement is, it lacks the ability to renovate our lives. That, for me, is
reserved for Q92.
Question 92 asks, “What is a sacrament?” This question,
which I discovered in a worship class my third year of seminary, has animated
my spiritual and professional life ever since. Question 92 in the Shorter
Catechism changed the way I look at everything in my life, including my
marriage, my role as a father, my approach to pastoring the local church, and
now my leadership in the denomination.
To the question about the nature of the sacraments, our Book
of Confessions offers no better answer than Q92 of WSC: “A sacrament is a holy
ordinance instituted by Christ, wherein, by sensible signs, Christ and the benefits
of the new covenant are represented, sealed, and applied to believers.” In all
my studies of sacramental theology (and I have a PhD in it from Notre Dame), I
have yet to find a better definition.
“A sacrament is a holy ordinance . . .” Sacraments are “ordinances”
(this is how our Baptist brothers and sisters refer to them) because they are
commands; they are “holy” ordinances because it is God who commands them. The
sacraments aren’t ecclesial mediations of salvation (as they had become in
medieval Roman Catholicism). They are God’s will for us in Christ who “instituted”
them.
But more than mere human obedience to divine command, the
sacraments have a ministry unique to them. God is at work in (“wherein”) the celebration
of the sacraments. In the sacraments, Christ is “re-present-ed.” In the
sacraments, the Holy Spirit “seals.” Through the sacraments, God’s reconciling
work in Christ (“the benefits of the new covenant”) is “applied.”
According to the Shorter Catechism, sacraments establish
that place where God and the individual relate through call and response,
command and obedience. Sacraments constitute that place where Christ and his
Body the Church collaborate in justification, sanctification, and redemption.
Sacraments reveal the mission of the triune God who applies Christ’s work to us
through the Holy Spirit. And the sacraments invite us to be “believers” who not
only respond in obedience, collaborate in ministry and mission, but who also see
in any and all “sensible signs” the reconciling work of God in our lives and in
the world.
So my relationships with my wife, my children, my
congregation, and our denomination, for example, are not merely covenantal relationships,
they are sacramental—so long as God uses them to reveal Christ’s presence and
to apply to me the benefits of the new covenant. These benefits include being
God’s child and a member of God’s kingdom, having a fruitful life, experiencing
life abundantly, and having eternal life as I grow in my knowledge of God.
“To glorify God and enjoy him forever.” This is my chief end
according to Question 1, and this I can do, thanks to the sacramental theology
of Question 92.
Sunday was the answer. I did not then know the question.
Nikki Giovanni, “These Women”
(A blog post by Andrew Taylor-Troutman for The Presbyterian Leader.)
On an unseasonably warm fall afternoon, a certain campus minister received a phone call from my parents. They were worried about me, their oldest boy turned prodigal son.
Today, I sit in a church office here in southwestern Virginia and, sometimes, I receive phone calls from parents who are scared and anxious about their children. And what that campus minister meant to me on that day long ago has served as a model.
I remember his attentiveness, how his stride fell into rhythm with mine as we walked together. I remember his kindness, his calm voice. Though there were no easy answers on that day, he sparked a little hope in me that one day there might be forgiveness. Maybe even that forgiveness was already there with us, as we walked under the bright fall colors, side-by-side, step-by-step. From the benefit of ten years distance, I can see that he made all the difference for me.
Giovanni’s poem, "These Women," is also about mentors and those who have served as role models. The line I’ve quoted above suggests that, when it comes to faith, the significance of actions deepens over time . . . if we are willing to think and pray, re-think and pray again. In terms of leadership, cultivating this habit of awareness and reflection is vitally important perhaps to any organization, certainly to the life of the church.
Every other Wednesday, at a quarter after eleven o’clock, two women visit a senior living community in our town. I have been present several times when they burst into the cafeteria. One is tall and skinny with smooth, hazel-colored skin and light eyes. She prances about daintily with her head held high, purse dangling from the crook of her right arm, and shiny heels clicking crisply across the worn floor. The other is short and squat with a dark, round face. She always wears pretty flower skirts down to her ankles that swish when she moves. But her most recognizable trait is her melodious voice, which booms out ahead of her:
“Why hello friends, a most blessed day to each one of you,” her greeting rings from one side of the cafeteria to the other, “Lawd, have mercy! It is so good to see you!”
They always begin at the first table and work their way counterclockwise around the room to each resident. The verbose one goes first and pronounces rapid fire greetings and salutations:
“Honey child, you lookin’ good, girl!”
“Well, well, mister so-and-so has a smile for us today!”
“Sister, sister, I could have never missed ya! How you doin’?”
“Brother, brother, just how are ya? It’s a fine day to be alive!”
Her partner follows behind, offering nothing more than a shy smile and a gentle squeeze of the shoulder. They never hurry, yet never pause more than a few moments, all that is necessary to meet and greet. The staff counts, not only on the exact day and time of arrival, but also on the punctuality of their exit. They leave between 11:40 and 11:45, just in time to begin moving residents to their rooms and clearing off the tables. They are as dependable as the big and small hands of a clock.
I once asked these two ladies why they did what they did. The tall, quiet one locked eyes with me, “Son, questions that begin with ‘why’ never give simple answers. But I tell you this,” and she gestured to her friend before continuing, “One day, we might find ourselves here. So we believe that a visit is truly priceless.”
A Presbyterian Leader blog post by Rev. Noe
Juarez
Last week, I turned
35 years of existence and yesterday my father turned 56 years. Therefore, I would
like to share a celebration of God’s faithfulness and presence
in our journey. I was born on November
21st, 1977 at my grandparents’ house Maura Vargas-Cornejo and Alfonso Loayza-Salvatierra.
My parents Gloria Loayza-Vargas and Santiago Juarez-Enciso lived 5 minutes
walking distance away from my grandparents. We lived in very small rural/jungle
town called ‘Gloriapata’ (In Quechua it means ‘the hill of glory’) in the region
of Ayacucho, southern highland of Peru. My mother, the oldest sister of 9
siblings was only 17 years old when I was born and my father, the last child of
7 siblings was 21 years old. The reason I was born in my grandmother’s house is
because there was no hospital near by, the person who ‘delivered’ me was my grandmother’s
friend, a midwife. I am the oldest child; I have three sisters: Norma, Esther
and Ana, and one brother: Santiago.
My
first 6 years of life happened in Gloriapata, we grew coffee, cocoa beans,
yuca, plantain, etc. We raised chickens, pigs, and sheep. As the Spanish writer
Miguel the Unamuno says, ‘the more I grow the stronger my childhood memories
becomes’. I also remember going to
church, and listening to Christian music in cassettes and Radio. My father started
a Presbyterian church with the Quechua Indian communities in Peru with the support of American Presbyterian
Missionaries. The Quechua communities who currently live in Peru, Ecuador
and Bolivia
are around 8 million people. We still maintain the traditions and cosmology of
the Incan civilization that was developed in 12th century until the Spanish
invasion that began in 1532. The most important heritages of my Quechua ancestors
are the life in community and the Quechua language. I remember laughing a lot,
playing with friends, climbing trees around the house and going into the jungle
to listen to the birds singing.
During my
childhood, I was not aware of how poor we were with no clean water, no
electricity, no telephone, no TV, etc. Just a small hut made with rough wood
and straw built by my father, grandfather and uncles. But we were loved in
closed family, and we were part of a true community of faith where we nourished
had clear sense of hope that inspires me to this day. In the mornings, I woke up
with the sounds of beautiful Christian songs in the voices of my parents, the
reading of scriptures and prayers crying out in for vindication and
forgiveness. These experiences were the most authentic expressions of Christian
faith that are a gift from God in my soul up to this day. In the evenings,
after eating delicious meals we went to my grandparent’s house to hear ‘Quechua
cuentos’, stories and jokes of our ancestors.
Around 1984 a Guerrilla
group started spreading a message from ‘presidente Gonzalo’ which was the
nickname of Abimael Guzman, the leader of the terrorist group called Sendero
Luminoso, the shining path. Their message was supposedly ‘justice and
vindication’ for the poor people in Peru. Ironically, their name was
the opposite of what they caused in the 80’s. They caused the death of more
than 60,000 thousand innocent people. Many women were raped and killed, and
many innocent children mostly Quechuan Indians, were killed, in the highlands
of Peru.
Of course the Peruvian military also committed these kinds of atrocities in
their intent of stopping the terrorist guerrilla.
This part of my
experience is probably the most difficult thing that ever happened in my
family. A terrorist killed my teacher in front of us. I saw the body of dead
people floating in the rivers and eaten by vultures. Many people suddenly
disappeared, they were tortured and killed. Those who did not want to join the
terrorist efforts were killed in the most horrendous ways.
One of my memorable moments I
want to share is the story of Guillermo. One evening when I was 6 years old, we
were invited to visit Guillermo, a dear friend of my parents. Guillermo lived
at a distance of one hour walking distance. We walked but my parents had a
strange feeling of sadness and melancholy. My little sister Norma, who at that
time was only 4 years old, started crying and did not want to walk. She started
screaming in the road for no reason and did not want to go anywhere. My father
was carrying my 2 year old daughter and my mother was carrying my 3 month old sister.
We all were frustrated with the incident and the day was getting dark. Finally,
we could not get to Guillermo’s house and we stayed that night in an abandoned
little old house with no roof in the middle in a farm. That night, it rained a
lot and we all got wet, my little sister Esther who at that time was 2 years
and the 3 month old baby Ana cried all night. We all were soaking wet and were perplexed
with what was happening. The next morning, everybody stopped crying and we quickly
got to Guillermo’s house. We knocked on the door and there was a complete
silence. We looked around the house and found some blood drops on the ground.
Then, some neighbors came and told us the terrible news that, the night before,
Guillermo and his family were violently tortured and killed because they did
not want to join the terrorist group Sendero Luminoso. We all grieved for a
long time, at the same time were grateful for our delay in the road. If we had
gotten to Guillermo’s house that night perhaps I would not be writing this
story. God saved us that night! But why would God allow the killing of an innocent
dear friend Guillermo and his family?
The torment of
the Sendero Luminoso was unbearable, after many persecutions and threats my
family, grandparents and friends decided to migrate to the city of Ayacucho. We left our
land and houses. At that time, Rev. Pedro Arana who was coordinating the
National Council of Churches of Peru (CONEP) organized a project called Paz y
Esperanza (Peace and Hope) and invited all the refugees to go to the northern
part of Peru.
That is how we were taken to found the community of ‘Peace and Hope’ near
Moyobamba, in the Amazon region. At that time also, my father got terribly ill
with tuberculosis in this time and was taken into the Hospital for 3 months. My
mother took care of us by herself. I was 6 years old, my sister Norma was 4, my
sister Esther was 2 and Ana was 6 months old. My father, after recovered in the
hospital, arrived to Paz y Esperanza and to this day, is perfectly healthy. God
healed my father!
We lived in this
part of Peru
from 1984 to 1991, for 7 years. All of us were from the Quechua Indian
community. We built our own houses; own
church, own school and clinic. We lived as a Christian community and my
elementary education happened in this little community with around 20
families. Our school was only one classroom,
my teacher Javier Anaya was the only teacher and principal of all 6 grades. Every Sunday, we studied the Exodus experience
of the Bible and applied it to our life. Other people around called us the
‘Community of Ayacuchanos’.
When I finished Elementary
school, my parents sent me to Moyobamba to keep studying in a secondary school.
The first months of secondary school I lived by myself in a little room near
the Colegio Nacional Con Areas Tecnicas. There, I was robbed but then the church
helped me accommodated in the house of Margarita where I was greatly welcomed
and lived for the rest of the school year.
The city of Moyobamba is a place where
I learned and grew spiritually and academically and also improved my Spanish
and learned more music. Until then, my main language was Quechua. I lived in
Moyobamba from 1992 until 2003. Here is where I went to College at the Teaching
Institute Jose de San martin, where I got my degree in History and Education.
After graduation, I taught social studies at Annie Soper
Christian School
for 3 years. During those years, I
vividly remember the disdain and the scorn of people against us just because we
were Quechuans. Students and people laughed at us because we could not speak
Spanish like they did. Later, I realized that there is still a deep racism and
discrimination against the Quechuas Indians in Peru. But I am convinced that God
in Jesus Christ was always with us, giving us strength, courage and hope to
overcome challenges and obstacles. During those difficult times the faith of my
parents and the hope that God will one day bring justice kept us moving.
Now, I am in the
process of integrating all who I am. I can say that I have a Quechua heritage
because I still speak that language, sing music in Quechua and share many
traditions of the Quechua culture. But I am also a ‘selvatico’, because I lived
in Moyobamba for 13 years. I am also a little bit ‘Limeno’ because I studied at
San Marcos University
in Lima and of course, my 9 years in North Carolina has
shaped my identity as person and minister.
In 2001, by the
providence of God, Laurie and I met and fell in love ‘locamente’. We got
married in 2003 moved to Greensboro, NC where I was welcomed by new friends and new family,
particularly at Alamance Presbyterian Church in Greensboro. I have also met many Mexicans and
other friends from other Latin-American nationalities. In this ongoing process,
I am learning how to keep celebrating my Quechuan and Peruvian heritage at the
same time embracing and learning how to be a new American citizen celebrating
the best of both worlds and the world of Latin American; as Celia Cruz sings,
“Tenemos Pasaporte Latinoamericano”, we have Latin American Passport. And like the
writer Jose Maria Arguedas my passionate task is to ‘Quechuanize’ Spanish and
tell you our stories in English.
Since I moved to
the USA, I had the
opportunity to serve as director of the Latino ministries at First Presbyterian
Church – Greensboro.
In this time, through events such as Latino Festivals, Worship services, Advocacy
for the Hispanic Community and through team work with many community leaders in
the Piedmont Area; God confirmed and affirmed my call into Pastoral ministry
and I graduated from Union Presbyterian Seminary in April 2010 with the degree
of Master of Divinity. The Clinical
Pastoral Education Residency Year at Duke
University also helped me
integrate theology, psychology and pastoral care.
Since July 24,
2011 I am serving as Pastor of Sunset Presbyterian Church in Fort Lauderdale, Florida; a
wonderful community that worships in English at 10AM and in Spanish at 11:15AM with Americans, Cubans, Puerto Ricans, Filipinos,
British, Jamaicans, Colombians, Hondurans, Mexicans, Guatemalans and Peruvians.
I thank the PCUSA General Assembly and the office of vocation for developing the
wonderful program called FOR SUCH A TIME AS THIS. They made possible this
partnership and our 90 member congregation is beginning to grow again. It is a
great place to grow as disciples and our lives are being shaped by this new
call. I look forward to enjoying what God has in mind for the next 35 year.
What is
the role of Sunday school for a soundbite society? Most people under the age of
30 are highly skilled at social media ... Facebook, texting, and tweeting. But
a great many of us with degrees in religious education and ministry still have
a huge learning curve when it comes to social media. Even if we have Facebook
and Twitter accounts, we don't know how to utilize their full potential. And
what does it mean for our church's educational programs?
In an
article on transformational Christian education, Mark Hinds (my wonderful
husband) envisions an educational ministry based in holy conversation. What if
a goal of our Sunday schools is to engage young people in face-to-face,
intentional and deep dialogue? In an age when most of their communication is online
in an abbreviated written language, the church could teach them by practicing
holy conversations.
Remember
the reason Sunday school was created? Poor children were working in factories
six days a week, with no opportunity to get an education. The church took on
the responsibility of teaching children to read and write, using the Bible as
their textbook. There was catechetical and theological education included, but
the primary purpose for Sunday school was literacy.
Today,
most children and youth in the U.S. can read, at least at an elementary level.
What many are losing is the ability to carry on an intelligent and substantial
conversation. They are much more comfortable texting than talking. I saw a
cartoon on Facebook yesterday (Thanksgiving day). The scene was a Rockwellian
Thanksgiving table with the family gathered around and Mom setting the huge
turkey in front of Dad for the carving. In front of everyone at the table were
not plates, but devices. Everyone was looking at a screen, no one facing
another person.
Is this
to what our culture has come? If it is, how does the church speak to this?
Holy
conversation is an alternative, perhaps radical, way of being present with one
another in religious education settings. Jesus told stories, and asked
questions that engaged his followers in theological thought and dialogue. He
also taught his disciples how to pray -- to have a meaningful conversation with
God. Are we doing the same? Are we teaching our children and youth how to
engage in meaningful conversations with one another, God, the Bible, their
faith community, and society as a whole? Are we teaching them to listen well,
think critically, and pray earnestly?
There is
nothing wrong with using technology as a tool for reaching young people. Today,
it is an essential evangelism tool. However, in a time when real human
discourse seems to be lacking, we would do well to teach our parishioners how
to engage one another and God in holy conversations.
In Searching for Home:
Spirituality for Restless Souls, Craig Barnes reminds us of the difference
between being a nomad and being a pilgrim. Nomads wander aimlessly. Pilgrims travel
with a sense of what home might be, but also being at home in the travels as
hope provides a grounding anchor in the journey. It’s not so much the frequency
of travel or the miles logged, but how and towards what (or towards whom) the
travel is being done.
The apostle Paul’s word
to the Philippians recall a pilgrim’s pride:
I rejoice* in the Lord greatly that now at last you
have revived your concern for me; indeed, you were concerned for me, but had no
opportunity to show it.* Not that I am referring to being in need; for I
have learned to be content with whatever I have. I know what it is to have little, and I know what
it is to have plenty. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of
being well-fed and of going hungry, of having plenty and of being in need. I can do all things through him who strengthens
me. In any case, it was
kind of you to share my distress.
The Lord strengthens the
pilgrim. Paul the pilgrim receives such strength from fellow pilgrims on the
journey, fellow travelers who share in distress as in joy.
The past three weeks have
been experiences of continual loss. Hurricane Sandy brought 11 days of no
electricity to our side of New Jersey. The superstorm blew our church building’s
steeple off of the sanctuary roof and caused extensive leaking on a 50-year old
roof. More tragically, our congregation lost two church members due to a house
fire caused by a candle when the lights were out. That same weekend of loss, I
joined about 100 mid-council moderators for an annual training conference; this
year’s theme focused on hope in the midst of grief and loss as many mid-councils
experience hard realities and challenges.
What these losses brought
were profound moments of community. Absence of electricity spurned our family
to move the portable firepit from the backyard to the driveway where neighbors
and church members gathered on a couple evenings for hours of story-telling,
laughter, sharing food and drink, and encouraging one another in the cold
darkness of the storm’s aftermath. Our congregation continued its daily and
nightly prayer teleconferences, the same prayer forum where our beloved deacon
who died from the house fire last shared her voice and her love with me and our
community. Prayers from across the country and around the world poured in,
including a visit from the Presbyterian Disaster Assistance, toiletries
donations from the Christ the King Presbyterian Church in Berwyn Heights, MD,
and even two dollar bills mailed from one of my best friend’s two toddler
daughters in southern California who sold their Halloween candy to their
dentist to help us out.
Neighbors, the town,
churches, family, friends, strangers...pilgrims on the journey. The many who
came from the One, or in the words of the title of the book by the late Trinity
scholar, Colin Gunton, “the One, the Three, and the many.”
A few days ago, our
family traveled to Osaka, Japan to visit with mission partners, specifically
the Yodogawa Christian Hospital (YCH), Japan Mission, and the Japan Mission
Osaka Church. More on the YCH in a future post. In a tour of the historic Osaka
castle at the Otemon Gate was this beautiful chrysanthemum:
Chrysanthemum at Otemon Gate @ Osaka Castle, Japan
The rear view shows the true nature of this flower:
Many distinct flowers all coming from one stem,
and together forming one whole flower. 2 Corinthians 10:17 says
that if there is anything we can boast, let our boasting be about the Lord.
This pilgrim’s pride is
that the Lord abides. And one sure way that the Lord abides is through fellow
pilgrims. Give thanks to God for all the pilgrims the Lord brings to your life.
Who are they among you?
