Lake Atitlán and Guatemala Baptist Convention

November 11-13
The most beautiful area of Guatemala is around Lake Atitlán. The little village all around the lake are picturesque and seem to be from another time. It is a tourist dream. San Pedro de La Laguna, one of the lovely, little villages on the lake, hosted the Guatemala Baptist Convention. People came from all over the country to have their voices be heard and to learn about how God is working through His people. New churches and their pastors were recognized. Several groups sang for us. Just about half the people of Guatemala are indigenous and descended from the ancient Mayans. They maintain their own customs and distinctive dress. There are over 20 different languages and dialects spoken among these groups. Spanish is a second language for many Guatemalans. Most of the church services held in San Pedro are in a language other than Spanish. Many of these people came to the convention in their traditional dress giving us many photo opportunities. All was not entertainment at this convention. Even Guatemalan business meeting are a test of endurance, even more so when you have a difficult time understanding the language.
What is amazing about this little village is the high saturation of churches. There are three Baptist churches within a ten minute walking distance. As I walked the streets, I heard Christian music coming out from homes and businesses.

Day of the Dead, November 1

I had several choices to commemorate this very popular Guatemalan holiday. The first was not so appealing—attend a funeral, a cultural experience. My favorite was to go to the kite festival in Santiago Sacatepéquez. For this I needed a guide and I couldn’t find anyone willing to struggle with the traffic and crowds for this once a year spectacular event. While despondent in disappointment, my neighbor Noly called and invited me to go to the cemetery with her. What a choice! I went, not really knowing what to expect. Noly was in her exercise clothes which surprised me, because she is a very elegant lady and is usually very well dressed—high heels even. We battled traffic everywhere, but Noly is a competent driver and knows her way around this city. Her plan was to park at her friend’s house and then we would walk from there. The way into the cemetery was like a carnival with booths lining both sides of the street. Most had flowers for the visitors to buy to put on family graves, but food stands were very popular, selling typical food and pizza even. The clowns really added to the carnival atmosphere. When we arrived at the Rios family mausoleum, Noly began pulling out all the dead and old flowers and replacing them with the new. She put on her rubber gloves and cleaned all the spider webs and dust. It was all efficient business until it was finished, and then I saw it. This heavy sadness that fell over her as she gazed at her son’s stone—Carlos Enrique Rios, November 25, 1965-October 6, 1999. It wasn’t too hard to follow the ritual, but the real purpose was painful.

The Day of the Dead or All Saints Day is a time to remember loved ones who have died. In Guatemala as in most countries many traditions and pagan practices obscure the original and main purpose of the holiday. A major tourist attraction is the kite festival in Santiago Sacatepéquez. The kites are launched from the cemetery with messages to the dead or to God. The kites are flown again on November 2 so that the spirits that visited on the first may return to that place of the dead. Somehow these spirits are supposed to use the kites to transport themselves. Another tradition in Guatemala is eating fiambre with your family and friends. I googled this tradition and found several different stories to explain it.

Once upon a time, there was a convent in Antigua, Guatemala, where the nuns had been celebrating the All Saints Day. They had an uninvited, but important visitor. They were really nervous because they did not have enough food to make a proper dinner for the guest, so they collected and remixed all the leftovers from previous meals, from slices of cheese to potatoes. As a result, the Guatemalan Fiambre was born and the guest was delighted!

Fiambre is really a marinated salad of many meats, vegetables, and cheeses. Some of these dishes can have as many as 50 different ingredients. It has been said that no two are alike. I went to Noly’s sister’s home on Nov. 1 for the first fiambre. Almost the entire family gathered to share in this meal and there was no shortage of food. Now Noly has 3 sisters. Two of them had prepared this fabulous dish. In order not to hurt anyone’s feelings, we had to go to each of their homes on two different days. It was worth the effort, not so much for the food as for the ambiance. This family loves jokes and funny stories. Oh how I wish I could grasp all the innuendos and idiomatic expressions of the Spanish language.

Reflecting on the holiday, I am grateful for the hope we have in Jesus Christ.

If corpses can't be raised, then Christ wasn't, because he was indeed dead. And if Christ weren't raised, then all you're doing is wandering about in the dark, as lost as ever. It's even worse for those who died hoping in Christ and resurrection, because they're already in their graves. If all we get out of Christ is a little inspiration for a few short years, we're a pretty sorry lot. But the truth is that Christ has been raised up, the first in a long legacy of those who are going to leave the cemeteries.
(1 Corinthians 15:16-20 The Message)

I am also grate that I don’t need to tie a message to a kite to communicate with God.

So, friends, we can now—without hesitation—walk right up to God, into "the Holy Place." Jesus has cleared the way by the blood of his sacrifice, acting as our priest before God. The "curtain" into God's presence is his body.
(Hebrews 10:19-20)

San Luis Jilotepeque, October 11

San Luis Jilotepeque is a little village about a four hour drive to the south and east of Guatemala City. My little church, El Aposento Alto, took two van loads of people on a pilgrimage to the inauguration of a new Baptist Church here. It was a beautiful drive especially for me as I had never seen the Guatemalan countryside. Being in very tight quarters for that long of a time also provides opportunities to get better acquainted with fellow passengers. Of course for me the challenge was to understand and follow the conversations. The pastor was in our van as was one of the adult Sunday school teachers. Both have the gift for gab and both had fascinating stories to tell about their journeys in faith. Sitting right next to me was an elderly widow woman with whom I almost immediately bonded. She has such sweetness about her. The church members in Jilotepeque fed us an interesting lunch, but I could not begin to describe it. It filled the empty place in our stomachs and those serving were gracious. We had time to walk around this quaint little village before the worship/inauguration service. I had never been to such a new church before or had any idea what was about to transpire. Several visiting pastors spoke and deacon and pastors from other churches questioned the new congregation about doctrine and beliefs and a challenge was given. Of course there was plenty of music, very loud music and singing. The tiniest of churches have huge speaker systems. They feel that others in the town will hear the music and believe. I am certain the entire town could hear the music because my stomach was vibrating and I was wishing for ear plugs. Now I know why there is a need for deaf ministry in this country or at least why there are so many deaf people.