Archives For Travel

The first time I left the country my life changed forever.

The summer before my freshman year of high I got my first passport, new luggage, a guide book, and one of those secret money pouches that awkwardly lined the inside of my husky jeans.

I also spent the forty days leading up to the trip meeting weekly with members of my home church as we prepared for our mission trip to England. We spent intentional time in prayer, reading devotions, and having discussions surrounding faith and cultures.

After all the packing and preparation, I thought I was ready.

We traveled to Harpenden, England, a town about an hour outside of London via rail. In Harpenden, we spent two weeks at Highfield Oval, a kind of village within a village that used to serve as a Methodist children’s home. The Oval had its own chapel, housing accommodations, dining hall, chapel, and printing factory that had all been used by needy children in the past.

The Oval we visited in 2001 was steeped in history, but it had been converted into a Youth With A Mission (YWAM) missionary base years before. We shared the base with people from all over the world for two weeks. Some of the residents were learning English and other languages so that they could go out into the world and share the gospel. Some of the residents were going through a discipleship training program. Other residents had lived there for years. They were missionaries reaching out to the locals who inhabited a Britain flooded with secularism.

Our mission team had been tasked with doing construction work in an old building named The Factory. The Factory used to house the printing press and serve as a place where children could be vocationally trained before leaving the Oval. YWAM was in the process of converting this building into a space where people from all over the world could come with the raw materials of their lives, be fashioned by God for new purposes, and be sent out around the world to make disciples. It was an awesome vision, and our team helped early on in the building’s conversion by tearing down old walls filled with asbestos, dragging out old office equipment, and putting new structures in place.

One night, after working in The Factory all day long, we attended worship with everyone on the base at the chapel. We spent some time singing and then someone presented the vision that led to Loren Cunningham’s founding of YWAM. Cunningham once had a vision of waves crashing over and covering every continent. Then, the waves turned into young people who were covering the continents preaching and embodying the good news of Jesus Christ. As a rising ninth grader, the vision was powerful and led me to wonder how this might come to pass.

At the end of the presentation, the speaker asked all of us to stand up and pray aloud to God in our native tongues.

I thought, “Pray out loud all at once? What if the person next to me is trying to eavesdrop on my prayer?”

I felt a little awkward. But truth be told, I was basically a middle schooler still who was used to feeling awkward, so I began to pray quietly.

Soon, the room filled with noise. But it wasn’t soft whispers. The room was filled with loud sounds, and ones that I’d never heard before. Europeans were praying with passion in languages that sounded vaguely familiar. African women were praying at the top of their lungs with words that sounded like clicks to my ears. And I began to raise my voice to a conversational level as I prayed with earnestness.

I caught a glimpse of the Kingdom of God that night. And eleven years later, that evening has never left my memory.

The chapel at the Oval – Credit to YWAM Harpenden

It wasn’t until years after that trip that I would read Revelation 7:9-10 where John records his vision of a great multitude from every nation, tribe, people and language standing before the throne of God and worshipping the lamb of Jesus.

It wasn’t until years after that I would re-read the story of Pentecost in a new light.

It wasn’t until years after that I realized the United Methodist Church was a global communion with members and missionaries in over 125 countries.

It wasn’t until years after that I learned that Christianity was shrinking in the West and flooding over the lands of the developing world.

It wasn’t until years after that I began to understand how desperately Christians in America need to be surrounded by those followers of Jesus whose culture and language is different than our own.

I’ll share my thoughts on that in the next post.

Have you had experiences with the global church?

One year ago I traveled to Central America to learn Spanish and work with the Evangelical Methodist Church of El Salvador.

I had a life changing summer as I learned a new language, embraced a new culture, and made many new friends — both inside and outside of the church.  I knew little about the countries I was headed to before I left.  However, one friend told me that I HAD to make it to Lake Atitlán (Lago de Atitlán) while in Guatemala.  This advice was confirmed when I found Lake Atitlan listed in the book “1000 Places to See Before You Die” while I was packing my bags.

My friends and I made it to Lake Atitlán. We were not disappointed.  The crystal blue water of the lake fills the cone of a collapsed volcano, leading it to be the deepest lake in Central America.  The lake is surrounded by three volcanoes and over a dozen villages in which Mayan culture still holds strong.  Aldous Huxley once wrote of Atitlán, “Lake Como, it seems to me, touches on the limit of permissibly picturesque, but Atitlán is Como with additional embellishments of several immense volcanoes. It really is too much of a good thing.”  There is no telling how many photos and paintings have been made of this beautiful place.

While the city of Panajachel is the hot-spot for most tourists in the area, we stayed in the village of Santa Cruz at La Iguana Perdida.  Santa Cruz is only accessible by boat, and our hotel offered us spectacular views in a fun Euro-Hostel setting.  Throughout our time on the lake, we traveled by boat to many of the villages, relaxed, and enjoyed perfect weather.  My friends were also kind enough to spend sunrise and sunset alongside of me and my tripod.

I’ve included some of my favorite photos from Lake Atitlán below.

But before you look at them I’d love for you to know a little more about why I love photography. Lately, I’ve felt the need to more fully integrate my photography with the theological content of my blog.  Perhaps one day I’ll write a post detailing how my photography fits into my work as a Christian and future pastor.  For now, I’ll let this quote from John Calvin explain why I love taking photos, particularly ones of nature:

Wherever you cast your eyes, there is no spot in the universe wherein you cannot discern at least some sparks of his [God's] glory. You cannot in one glance survey this most vast and beautiful system of the universe, in its wide expanse, without being completely overwhelmed by the boundless force of its brightness. The reason why the author of The Letter to the Hebrews elegantly calls the universe the appearance of things invisible (Heb. 11:3) is that this skillful ordering of the universe is for us a sort of mirror in which we can contemplate God, who is otherwise invisible. (Institutes, I.V.1)

 

Two out of Three

 

Amigos

 

Solo

 

Santa Cruz Dock

 

Sunrise at Santa Cruz

 

An early morning

 

Above Santa Cruz

 

Santa Cruz Night

 

Recently the “New Creation Student Arts” group at Duke Divinity School held a photo contest with the theme “Food and Faith,” and one of my entries won second place!

The theme for the contest came from the book “Food and Faith: A Theology of Eating” by Norman Wirzba.

The exhibit was created to help relay two major ideas from Wirzba’s book.  First, we must acknowledge the fact that our culture often manufactures food in such a way that much of it is wasted, the environment is degraded, and inhumane processes abound.  Second, we must also acknowledge that our faith is sustained by food, particularly the bread and wine of the Eucharist, and that we are called to be stewards of God’s creation.

My three entries were from my trip to Central America this summer.  I featured the bottom two photographs previously in the post Cooking in Guatemala.  The first entry is one that I hadn’t shared until the contest and it ended up winning second place.

The photo features Ángel, the pastor of La Iglesia Evangelica Metodista La Providencia.  It was taken at his house late in July when he had the interns from Duke over for a last supper of sorts.  We were all sharing homemade lasagna and Coca-Cola when a torrential rain storm moved in.  Suddenly, the power went out.  At this point in the trip this wasn’t too rare, so we all kept talking, eating, and enjoying Ángel’s huge smile in the candlelight.  I pulled my camera out because I love to photograph in low-light settings.  I took numerous frames, but when I took this one I knew it was special.  Ángel doesn’t regularly smile for posed photos.

 

Pastor Ángel
“Pastor Ángel” – Ahuachapán, El Salvador

 

Macadamia Nuts
“Macadamia” – Communiad Nueva Alianza, Coffee Finca

 

Tortilleria: Los Comalitos
“Tortilleria: Los Comalitos” – Xela, Guatemala

This summer I had the experience of being the new kid in town. I moved to a country that I had never visited before and whose language I didn’t speak.

In my mind, and largely in American media, being the new kid means being an outsider and an outcast for a while until you’re slowly brought into the new community. After a while of viewing you at a distance – or perhaps making fun of you – people slowly warm up to the fact that someone new is around, they realize that perhaps you have some unique contributions you could make to the community, and then you are grafted in, if you’re lucky. The basic movement in this narrative is one from hostility to hospitality.

Yet, from the moment I arrived in Central America I was treated with radical hospitality and rarely with any sense of hostility.

As I moved into the house of my host family in Guatemala, my soon-to-be friend, Rodolfo, moved out of his room and onto the floor of someone else’s so that I would have a room to myself.

One of my Spanish teachers, Apa, invited me to play soccer with some of his friends, and even after I played horribly – remember that at this time I did not understand words like “pass,” “cross,” and “shoot” – they invited me to return the next week.

Family

After going to a restaurant with Cristian, one of the family members in my house in El Salvador, I told him that I really liked the grilled tortillas with casamiento – a mix of rice and beans. Sure enough, I found him in the kitchen a few days later trying to replicate this dish so that I could have it for dinner.

And when I visited struggling church members in the community with Pastor Marta, the members graciously welcomed me into their homes and allowed me to be present while they cried and talked with her.

While these four anecdotes alone may seem to illustrate that I was around nice people all summer, their significance is rooted in the reality that these incidences were not isolated. Rather, they were part of a pattern in the way people treated me.

And it is a pattern that I can look back and see brightly because it stands in stark contrast to the way I often treat people in my life.

While in school, I sin by slipping into the mode of treating people with hostility as I see them as “stealers of my time.”

I have books to read, papers to write, a youth group to volunteer with, meetings to attend, and scheduled time to hang out with my best friends. If you’re not in one of those groups I prefer a few weeks notice so that I can see if spending time with you will be manageable. And stopping into my life unannounced just causes me undue stress as I’m trying to get my to-do list done that never seems to end.

Perhaps you can relate.

Now, please take a moment and reflect on how embarrassingly counter to the Gospel of Jesus Christ the thought process in the above paragraph is. This disposition is one that could easily characterize the Priest or Levite who walks past the beaten-down man on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho in the Parable of the Good Samaritan. And it certainly stands counter to the ministry of Christ and his selfless love for us on the cross that we’re called to imitate in our relationships with others.

Sin causes us to be hostile – to be resistant, unfriendly, and closed off.

God calls us to be hospitable – to be inviting, welcoming, and open to sharing the love and good news of God in Christ with all whom we encounter.

Thankfully, this summer I was surrounded by people who enjoyed offering me hospitality daily. And this school year I’m trying to offer the same to others around me.

Especially to the new kids in town who may not speak my language.

Before I applied to go to Central America, I was informed that my final assignment would be to preach in Spanish at the end of the summer.  Having never had a Spanish class before this summer, I was unsure how this was going to happen.

Yet, as I write this post I’m reminded of the Gospel of Matthew where Jesus tells a man who sees an insurmountable task before him, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”

Jesus’ words rang true in my life this summer.

Below you’ll find a video and transcripts (English/Español) of my sermon.  The sermon in the video is done with a paragraph in Spanish and then one in English, and the sound isn’t great quality.  Therefore, you may find it easier to read the manuscript in your native language.

Acts 2:1-21
La Providencia – Iglesia Evangelica Metodista
Ahuachapán, El Salvador

 

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