The institute I was studying at was not only a Bible school campus,
it was a nondenominational Evangelical Christian ministry which owned the Bible institute, the dormitories, facilities and was coincidently the headquarters of
the ministry. In the past it had also run an orphanage as well, and some of the
previous orphans had stayed on as adults and worked with the ministry, helping
with the Bible institute.
The ministry held their services in
the gymnasium every Thursday night and Sunday mornings. This meant that the
chairs had to be taken out and set up from storage on Thursday afternoons and
Saturday nights by the internos[1].
While the young men unstacked and organized chairs, sweep and mop the floor,
the ladies would help with the dusting, cleaning the nursery, and the modulos
where Bible classes were held for the children.
I wasn’t sure what to expect from my
first service. When I climbed down all the stairs to the gym, most of the
chairs were filled. The cement built bleachers were packed. It was very
different from my small church. They actually had an orchestra which played
from the left corner of the gym. It was composed of strings, flutes, clarinets,
cymbals, and brass instruments, an electric organ and a beautiful black baby
grand piano. My fingers had itched to touch the white keys. It was an incredible instrument! The orchestra's setup seemed so grand to me.
Whether simple or fancy, everyone was in
their best. I saw local women with their traditional dress of colorful woven
skirts and blouses, some tops had been beautifully embroidered at home and some
had bright beadwork, but all were amazingly vibrant to my eyes.
Amidst the church members there were
those who were simple, as well as wealthy and others who were successful
business owners. The majority of people in Guatemala City shared short stature,
with rich earth colored skin and dark strait hair. Indigenous women wore their
hair in thick braids or let it hang loose below their waist. But there were
also many with varying features with shiny black curls that felt silky.
Some from the colder and more mountainous region shared the indigenous facial
feature of stretched, yet large dark eyes and sharp noses, but with lightly pink
skin and of course there were some with European characteristics as well—tall
and fair. Despite the great variety of
economic status among the members, there was also unity. Like many Hispanics and
Latinos, the Guatemalan people shared different physical characteristics.
Before and after service the women
greeted each other with a kiss on the cheek and a hug while the men shook each
other’s hand firmly. Both genders simply shook one another’s hands. This was
all new to me. I was used to the American wave form of greeting or the
handshake. Giving hugs and kissing another woman’s cheek felt almost like an
invasion of my personal space. Hesitant at first, I soon gave it no thought by
the end of my first year.
The wide pulpit was placed on a
platform in the center between the organ and the piano. One projector hung on
each side of the gym to show the words from the worship songs. Further back
were wooden chairs that seemed to belong in a fancy dining room from the
Renaissance Era that stood in front of a royal blue backdrop curtain. I remember having touched it when I had helped sweep the floor nearbye; it felt like a rich velvet to my fingers. It was hard to think it had been a gym just a
few hours ago!
Due to problems that had arose in
previous years with the internos, there was a certain section reserved
for my fellow female classmates, while the young men were permitted to sit
anywhere.
I hadn’t been to church in a while.
Not because I was forgetting God, or my faith was groiwing cold, but because our previous pastor had
decided to leave the ministry our church was under. It had been a difficult and
sad event. While we waited to receive a new pastor, my family had simply united together in our living room. My father would lead the family in prayer and worship. We
sang coros[2]
and sometimes there was a time for adoracion[3]where
everyone sang their own song of adoration to God. In whatever key we had begun
to sing, our personal praise would vary at will in different octaves of the
same note. It was almost in imitation of the sound of the wind. In my family,
we generally worshiped in Spanish.
My family began a time of Bible studies alone at home which
continued from December until I went to the Bible school in January. As it was, I hadn’t
assisted a church service in a long time and I had begun to actually crave that
feeling of unity with other people we called our brothers and sisters in Christ as we
gave praise together to God.
When the worship finally began, I joined in
whole-heartedly with the rest of the congregation. It was an amazing feeling to
be among so many people who felt the same urge to worship. The trumpets that
played sounded majestic. Even the children participated with enthusiasm beside
their parents. The couple who sat in front of us had three children. I saw them
raise their hands and sing their hearts out.
I couldn't help but remember how I had been different at their age.
I had raised my hands because my mom had always told me to. I knew the words to
the songs by heart and closed my eyes as a sign of reverence, but I was
embarrassed to participate in the adoracion for years while these children in front of me needed no parental prompting.
I remember telling
my mom, “but I don’t know what to do. What do I say?” She didn’t make us sing
our words.
Instead she
answered, “Just praise God in prayer then.” But these children, I could see the
earnestness in in their little faces with real tears streaming down their
faces; no one was nudging them. And no one made them sing their personal praise
of “¡Gracias Señor! ¡Tu eres tan bueno!” that could be heard intermingled with
the adult voices. Their voices added a sweet touch to the harmony as they
thanked God and told him how good He was. Everyone participated with such a
liberty as I had never witnessed before.
No one was embarrassed of being
overheard, or of who sat behind or beside them. No one cared who was going to
see their tears. They were just there to praise God and attract his presence
with their worship. They were so absorbed within their personal relationship
with God alone and everything else that surrounded them ceased to exist.
I realized how much I had missed out
in my childhood. I could have been like one of those children. I saw with
conviction now what my mind had already known—you don’t have to be old to find
God. I could have been as young as that four year old looking boy in front of
me and enjoyed feeling a piece of what it means to feel God’s intense
love and peace, subjected to His presence. Unfortunately, neither my parents, nor I were aware that at one could tap into God's presence at such a tender age.
The unity was so beautiful. And the
overwhelming feeling of finally being in a service again overwhelmed me. I was
at home. My body felt as if a sort of electric current ran through me in waves
as God’s presence washed over me and all I wanted to do was to stand there and absorb
it all. It was a moment like I had experienced months before of having the
feeling of learning to breathe. As I stood there, it was as if I hadn’t known
my body was a dry desert, parched. But God’s presence was like a strong rain
that my dry body could not even finish drinking as it flooded over me.
It was as if my soul was a cup which
was being filled to the brim with God’s presence as it overflowed[4].
For that moment I lived that psalm[5]
which King David [6]sang
of how a day with God is worth more than a thousand days elsewhere[7].
I didn’t want that moment to end. I
remember the words ‘thank you,” erupting from my own lips constantly that
night.
This would only be the first of many
more church services that I would experience in my two years in Guatemala. I
treasured them.
[1]
Boarding students, can be used for men or mixed group of men and women.
[2]
The Spanish word to reference un-secular songs of religious nature.
[3]
Worship of adoration
[4]
From the Bible, Psalm 23:5 “my cup runneth over”.
[5]
A sacred song
[6]
The second King of Israel spoken of in the Bible who was chosen by God. He is
also known as a psalmist and a man who desired to please God’s heart.
[7]
Psalm 84:10 “for a day in thy courts is better than a thousand” (KJV Bible).
