August 18, 2006

Truthfully, it is so hard for me to talk about the things that I will miss the least when I return home from beautiful Guatemala. I wrestle with the idea of telling you, as I do not want you, to be mistaken and not be able to see the even greater side of joy. There is such a struggle, but also a pure beauty that is apart of my life here, they intertwine so that a peace consumes these shambles. Life here sometimes seems like a dream come true, an answer to prayer and everything I had ever wanted for my life. I mean what more could I want, the amazing Latin culture, warmth and love, beautiful people, exquisite food, the most serene river just a walk away, an amazing project with two-hundred and fifty kids that radiate with pure energy and joy, and new families and friends that have taken me in. Of course, when my patience has run out with whatever my struggle is for the day, my sentiments are quite a different, but ultimately life is full of struggles, whether in America or in a foreign land. While most of the struggles I continue to deal with here in Guatemala are wrapped and immersed within the culture of the Latin American Church. Yet, I sit here with a peace that only comes from God, knowing that he placed me here, in Machaquilá, Guatemala and in the Church for a reason, whatever that might be.
The greatest trial I have faced in my time here is that of the legalistic Latin American Evangelical Church and the culture that it entails, through which nearly every one of the struggles I face, are derived from. Imagine being blessed with being able to live with the Juans of the Nazarene Church, and then taking on the responsibilities that come with that opportunity. I am required to attend every service with the utmost respect, properly wearing a longer skirt, with a respectful neat and clean appearance, expected to stand and clap without any other body movement, to participate by leading worship and sitting quietly during every sermon. Monday night is a prayer service, Wednesday and Saturday nights are regular services while each are two or three hours long, and Sunday always consists of Escuela Dominical, a form of Sunday School that lasts for nearly four hours while at night everyone returns for another service. The basic service begins with prayer and an unprepared worship where an elected member invites members of the congregation up to, on the top of their head, lead everyone in songs of worship. Any two that volunteer to take the offering and pray over it then take the offering. While the Pastor follows with his sermon that usually only lasts around fifteen to twenty minutes. Throughout this time, everyone is expected to volunteer and participate, even me.

My struggle and frustration with the Church and its congregation came to me slowly. I believe some of which derived out of my expectations. Without knowing it, I set for myself the anticipation that, as I would be living at the Church and with the Juans that I would somehow experience God in a remarkable way, that I would undoubtedly feel his presence with me and reach and maintain a closer relationship with him. I assumed that I would grow spiritually, I mean attending Church nearly everyday, and being nearly forced to pray, kneeling on that bench for hours upon hours. While I have learned to pray, I am experiencing God in quite different ways. I do not believe I have ever tried harder to seek God and experience him more than I am right now in Guatemala, while I have never felt so alone, discouraged and empty of Spirit. It was as if I am completely dry, filled with nothing and left to wander alone despite my persistent cries for help. I feel almost deserted and desolate, but also in a place where I know that God still reigns and I will continue to praise and worship him in my times of struggle. I continue to look and relate to Psalm 102, where David cries…

LORD, hear my prayer! Listen to my plea! Don't turn away from me in my time of distress. Bend down your ear and answer me quickly when I call to you, for my days disappear like smoke, and my bones burn like red-hot coals. My heart is sick, withered like grass, and I have lost my appetite. Because of my groaning, I am reduced to skin and bones. I am like an owl in the desert, like a lonely owl in a far-off wilderness. I lie awake, lonely as a solitary bird on the roof. My enemies taunt me day after day. They mock and curse me. I eat ashes instead of my food. My tears run down into my drink because of your anger and wrath. For you have picked me up and thrown me out. My life passes as swiftly as the evening shadows. I am withering like grass. But you, O LORD, will rule forever. Your fame will endure to every generation. You will arise and have mercy on Jerusalem--- and now is the time to pity her, now is the time you promised to help. For your people love every stone in her walls and show favor even to the dust in her streets. And the nations will tremble before the LORD. The kings of the earth will tremble before his glory. For the LORD will rebuild Jerusalem. He will appear in his glory. He will listen to the prayers of the destitute. He will not reject their pleas. Let this be recorded for future generations, so that a nation yet to be created will praise the LORD. Tell them the LORD looked down from his heavenly sanctuary. He looked to the earth from heaven to hear the groans of the prisoners, to release those condemned to die. And so the LORD's fame will be celebrated in Zion, his praises in Jerusalem, when multitudes gather together and kingdoms come to worship the LORD. He has cut me down in midlife,shortening my days. But I cried to him, "My God, who lives forever, don't take my life while I am still so young! In ages past you laid the foundation of the earth, and the heavens are the work of your hands. Even they will perish, but you remain forever; they will wear out like old clothing. You will change them like a garment, and they will fade away. But you are always the same; your years never end. The children of your people will live in security. Their children's children will thrive in your presence. (NLT)

Within the Church community, due to culture, I experience the fight for a freedom to worship my God, our God, in ways that I found beneficial, but were culturally unacceptable. As a person who enjoys dancing in the Church during praise and worshiping his name, I struggle with locking my knees and putting a mere clap with my song. I can not dance or feel the rhythm of the music and I am left to sing songs that, I do not always understand or worse I stand, clap and am forced to listen to everyone else belt praises. When I try to put my mind somewhere else, to praise him in English, it just does not seem to work, the loud Spanish voices overcome all train of thought. What would be beneficial for me is to sit in the field in front of the Church or at the river, in silence or in songs of praise, but in solitude with God. I often do this in my free time, but I wrestle with the idea of being in Church that much every week and not gaining nearly anything from it. The congregation is not understanding of my handicap and inability to communicate fluently; that I continue to not understand every word, or even every sermon, I am lucky to get the gist of what is being said. It therefore takes me a long time to catch on to song lyrics, and I am often asked to lead worship and then rudely misunderstood or looked down upon as I try to explain that the language barrier sets a hard bar for me to reach and it takes me awhile to catch on. While many hymns are sung out of a Hymnal, never once has someone offered theirs to me, so that I could sing along for at least just one song. So I continue to sit here, in Church all the time, silent, alone, frustrated and to be honest just plain bored as I fight with how much I should sacrifice to be culturally acceptable.

As to the legalism of the Church, if I did not attend a service, I would be constantly probed for my reasons behind my absence and where I had instead been. If was out with other ‘Non-Evangelicals’ of the community I would be criticized and looked down upon. Living with the Pastors, I knew that whomever I am seen talking with during the day, I would return that night to hear the worst of whomever I was talking to earlier that day. I would be told, even about those who came to the Church, and told all about their sins. I also struggle with not being allowed to go to different community events, at the schools or pageants without being looked down upon by Evangelicals. I am restricted to where I cannot leave the house, to be me and to make friends. I am constantly being watched and judged.

Throughout this time, never once did I feel true warmth of the community of the Church, nor feel comfortable with anyone in the congregation, other than my family, the Pastors. Those whom I did see love and acceptance radiate from, were the ‘Non-Evangelical’ neighbors, whom I was scolded for spending my free time with. So I allowed myself to play with this boundary, I mean how sad and depressing is it that I feel more comfortable and more love from the non-Christians than the Christians do.

There is always the constant always being the center of attention and everyone always worrying about me. I did not come to stand out; I do not like not being allowed to wash the dishes or to help cook or clean. I feel so dependent for everything, like I am such a trouble to have, but they will not let me change that. All I want is to be seen as a local, to walk down the streets without everyone staring, I want to immerse myself to the extent that I am one of them. However, is that ever possible or a reasonable goal? With only three months as a trial, I have not been successful. My skin, clothes and unfamiliar face make me an alien in this land.

I never in fact was tempted to quit. I however have found myself saying that if I ever returned, I would not be able to be where I am now. There is no way that I could handle living with the Pastors, attending every service and living by the repressive rules of the legalistic Latin Evangelical Church, when I have known a different, more free Christian way of life. What I was tempted with was taking myself out of fulfilling the role of the ‘Super Christian’ in the Church, as I am seen as an American Christian and am assumed to be somehow more advanced in my walk with Christ. My actions proved that whether subconsciously or out of direct thought and motive I withdrew. The actions that did flow out of my experience, whether good or bad is that I find myself retreating. In my last month, I have found that I often miss a complete Church service once a week just to do homework, or I show up a little later and sit in the back, rather than the front. I find myself retreating in times of stress and conflict with the views of the Church to the neighbor’s house, who as non-Evangelicals but also believers in Christ allowed me to process bits and pieces of my struggle and confusion of the Church with an intellectual viewpoint.
While part of me feels terrible for slightly withdrawing from Church life, the other part recognizes that I would not have survived this journey, sanely, if I had not. My connection with the neighbors grew to be a deep friendship and understanding that I could not find anywhere else. I found comfort and relief in their house and I often feel as if I can just be myself, I can let my guard down and I am not always being watched and judged with a second eye. As I know, I am frowned upon every time I am found at their house and judged as they are not ‘Evangelicals.’ Therefore, it is then that I do not know if is should have taken that route, and built such a friendship. Nevertheless, the separation between religions, non-Christians and Christians, and denominations hurts my heart, right or wrong, I am still a visitor in their culture and that makes me unsure about my adamant decision to befriend the other and love them despite our differences. Whether I crossed a line, I might not ever know. However, it was the neighbors, through our intellectual talks about the culture, whom taught me to understand, to rearrange their history in my head and apply it to the now.

I am uncertain about how I feel about me finding security outside of the Church, while I was living within the Church and how that must look to outside viewers. I would challenge future sojourners to seek God in every decision, In my case I bended what was culturally acceptable, and one of the extremes of the legalist society of the Church, while it is still not used by everyone. I would go as far as to say that while I believe that God lead me directly to work and stay in the Church, that the Third World’s Evangelical mentality is an extreme for a Western Christian to step into without much ‘real’ warning. I felt completely unprepared to handle this challenge, and I guess that is what happens when you change plans a week before arrival. I believe there is so much to the culture that I would not have experienced through my ‘non-Evangelical’ friends and for that, I am thankful. Nevertheless, I was told during my journey to find the medium “Alas, the challenge to be "in" but not "of" the world. (But we should not judge; most of us in the West are "of" the world and not "in" it.)”