I grew up in a suburb of Burlington, Vermont. It was a tidy town with perpendicular intersections, chain retailers with fluorescent lighting, and well organized activities for kids of all ages. Parents made sure their children tried hard in school, played Little League and didn't talk to strangers. When we were told yesterday that we were going to visit a church in suburban Asuncion, I had a hunch that it would be a bit different from Essex Junction, Vermont. After all, the city of Asuncion itself is different from any US cities I've been to. Cattle roam a soccer field when it is not being used by some of the top teams in the city, people convert their garages into little stores to to sell snacks and sodas to their neighbors, most side roads are not paved - although many are cobblestone,, and licence plates are clearly optional on motor vehicles.
So we were not particularly surprised, although we were intrigued, by the little one room church on a red dirt road. An abandoned filed across the street had makeshift soccer goals made of three sticks and a neighbor had a cow grazing on their front lawn. We were welcomed warmly by several early arrivers as we entered the church and began to set up. The church was open and surprisingly spacious. We just finished setting up our props when the worship leaders began to play. There's nothing quite like Latino praise music. The guitarist was jamming and the singer had a wonderful voice. They started the service with a Spanish version of "How Great Thou Art". So many times I heard that song at my childhood suburban church, and it simultaneously both brought me back in time and allowed me to experience the song as if for the first time.
Our set may have been the best yet here in Paraguay. We were certainly well received. The the preaching started, which was, of course, all in Spanish. I was able to figure out what scripture references he was using, and I heard the words "Dios", "Jesuchristo" and "Espirit de Sancto" and that's about all. At least I knew he touched on all three persons of the Trinity.
Afterwards we spoke with several people through our interpreter, John Sappia. I tried to talk with a couple teenage boys, but I all really understood was their names, ages and they sometimes played drums in church. As has happened a few times since arriving, Rose had a group of kids around her as she explained the colors of the Gospel bracelets we brought. Once she started giving them out, even the adults - including the Pastor - were wearing bracelets. A little later, Sue and I looked around and saw that Rose wasn't in the church. That's not as alarming here as at home, as the church was open on one side, so inside and outside all sort of blend together. Sue found Rose out in the yard with a group of the youth, laughing and playing and not understanding a word that was being said.
When we finally left the church in San Antonio, the Pastor and one of the teens, a 14 year old boy named Enzo, joined John and our family for empanatas at a local restaurant. John was incredibly patient with us as the Paraguayan pastor and I got to know each other through his translating. We ended the evening with Pastor saying, "If we don't meet again here, we'll see each other in Heaven. Then we won't need John to translate for us!"
Meanwhile, Rose was sitting beside Enzo. They tried to talk a bit, but mostly giggled about Rose's homemade jewelry of bottle caps and feathers. Unbeknownst to me, however, is the fact that Enzo gave Rose a charm to add to her necklace. It is in the shape of the letter "G" (what that stands for, we don't know). Apparently, he even put it on or her! We've been teasing her that this is how couples get engaged here, and now she has to stay for their wedding. She laughs, but doesn't deny that he was pretty cute.
In fairness, Enzo impressed me, too. He is getting baptized in September, even though he is the only believer in his household. He told us his story of conversion, and is not in any way ashamed of his faith in Jesus Christ. Rose could certainly do worse!