This is the second time I have had the privilege of standing up before you to talk about my trip to El Sal. For me, it was nice to be rid of the anxiety of the unknown. I knew where the bathrooms were and the kind of food we would be eating and that we stand up in the back of the truck in order to go anywhere. However, this trip could not have been more different from the first. Halfway through the trip I knew that I needed to try to explain, somehow, how enmeshed we are in the lives of the people of these small communities, and how much we receive from them while we are there and continue to receive after we get back. Those of us that have gone down in the last couple of years definitely have had the benefit of the relationships that were built over the past years. The relationship with El Tablon as a community and the unique individuals that live there have come to represent what this Mission is all about.
While down there, I experienced several very spiritual moments. I am not sure this will happen every trip, as it surrounded some very specific moments in time. While there, we visited a town called Cinquera and were introduced to a man named Don Pablo who is a friend of the Parish Team and others.
Don Pablo grew up in Cinquera, a very small, quiet town up in the mountains. He married and had many children, 5 of them were boys of whom he lost in the Civil War that ended about 12 years ago. He is shorter, looks to be in good health and his skin was very smooth, not all wrinkled from the sun. You can tell he is right handed by the fact the leather strap that is wound around the Machete' he is carrying is looped on his right wrist. He seemed very intense the day we met him. He shared with us a story of a massacre that happened in the jungle up in the hills about a ½ an hour away and showed us the memorial that stands there now. I imagine some of the other delegates will talk about this also, so I won't get carried away, although, I will say it was a spiritual, albeit surreal experience. Nevertheless, part of what struck me was this intense desire to share his stories with others. His goal being to help us best understand the tragedies of the past, the loss they still feel, and where they are now.
Right before we left Cinquera to go back home, he took us outside the Catholic church that we had had lunch in, and showed us 2 rusted out casings of American bombs that hadn't detonated. Here were the casings, sitting upright in the small yard of the church facing the square. Of course, the explosive insides are gone, but these bombs still explode each time they bang on them to call the community to church. It was a definite "in your face", reminder of what this community had been through, and what our Government had provided their Army to use. Some local men were sitting on the wall beside the casings and watching our faces as Don Pablo told this story to us through our translator. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, as if we should have been able to fix it somehow.
The 2nd spiritual situation for me came while we were staying in El Tablon. For a number of reasons there were not many children and people around us this time. You will be hearing more about that later, too. However, one enchanting little 4 yr old girl met us when we pulled up in the truck and rarely left our side.
Her name is Suliema, and she was really quite a character. Just smart enough to manipulate us, while being so doggone cute you did not even care. The rule at the cantons, is that you do not give to one child unless you can give to all children, but, since she was about the only one, we pretty much pampered her. Her picture is in our hallway on the wall and you will recognize her by the shirt with the Winnie the Pooh on it. That picture was taken several years ago and she was still wearing the shirt while we were down there. Only now, there are 14 holes in her shirt and we know this because she and Cheryl counted them to practice their numbers!
The women in our delegation had brought along baby wipes to wipe the dirt off after traveling and such and Suliema saw us wiping down. We gave her one and we washed her face and arms down, and she had a ball. She would keep coming back for more. It was Rainforest hot down there this time and we were using the wipes often.
Suliema and I were in the clinic where my bags were with the wipes and we each had our own and were laughing and wiping our necks and the next thing I knew, Suliema was hunching down and wiping my feet. And all I could think of was Jesus kneeling and washing the Disciples feet. She was so small and precious and it was so totally innocent. I will never forget the feeling of being "hit by a ton of bricks" and I am not exactly sure why. It was an innocent gesture, but a very powerful moment for me.
After returning home, I picked up a small book I had bought to take with me to El Salvador to read, but I had forgotten it. It is a very neat little book by Max Lucado called "A Heart Like Jesus"
Chapter 2 is called "Loving the people you are stuck with" and it talks about a forgiving heart. As soon as I read this chapter, I knew I had to share some of it. This passage is from the book of John.
"If I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash each other's feet. I did this as an example so that you should do as I have done for you"
(John13:14-15)
It goes on to say:
Jesus washes our feet for 2 reasons. The 1st is to give us mercy; the 2nd is to give us a message.
That message is unconditional Grace. It means to kneel as Jesus knelt, touching the grimy parts of the people we are stuck with and washing away unkindness with kindness. Of all the men in that room where the Last Supper took place, only one was worthy of having his feet washed. And he was the one who washed the feet. The one worthy of being served, served others. The genius of Jesus' example is that the burden of bridge-building falls on the strong one, not the weak one. The one who is innocent is the one who makes the gesture.
Relationships do not thrive because the guilty are punished, but because the innocent are merciful.
Amen.