Lamps and Lights

The Word is the teacher... and we are the illustration.

This is the mantra of Let's Start Talking, and I love the focus. It really summarizes well the theology of Karl Barth, a German theologian of the 19th century. When people have questions, refer them back to the text. When in doubt, preach the word. Teach people what God says. Help them understand his message. God's word is a lamp for our feet and a light for our path, so let the word be the guide.

God's word is powerful, and makes a huge difference in people's lives. It is amazing to watch as people read Scripture and are confronted by its message. Here are just a few examples from the past week:

One reader, who is a devote Catholic, recently told an LST worker, "I think I've had the order of baptism wrong all these years..."

Another read the story of the Prodigal Son and felt ANGRY that the Father would take the younger son back with no punishment, no consequences, simply grace. "The world SHOULDN'T work this way. It isn't fair!" Isn't it great that grace isn't fair?!?!?

Another reader, who calls himself "agnostic," told me the other day that he likes the teachings of Jesus, that he's never really read them for himself before.

It is amazing to see how God is using His word to touch hearts and lives here in Buenos Aires.

Our next post will focus on the idea that we are the illustration. However, I want to ask: How have you seen the power of God's word in your own life or in the lives of others?

Resurrection

Recoletta Cemetery is a beautiful landmark in Buenos Aires. Considered the most expensive (and exclusive) real estate in the city, it is a monument to life and death. The other day, my family was walking around the cemetery, when we saw this sight. What a great reminder that death isn't final, that there is a resurrection.

No parking!

1 Corinthians 15

"I declare to you, brothers and sisters, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed— in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality. When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: “Death has been swallowed up in victory.”
“Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?”

Communion thought this week...

This was my Lord's Supper talk this week. First in Spanish, then in English...

A veces, la vida está llena de dolor y las dificultades. Esta fin de semana, vi la películaLuna de Avellaneda. En la pelí, el protagonista, Ricardo Darín, tuvo muchos problemas en su vida: estaba separado de su esposa, su relación con su hijo fue tensa, odiaba su trabajo, y su pasión, su club, iba a cerrar. Darín se sintió triste y enojado; he perdido sus sueños. En una parte de la película, Darín oró a Dios y dijo, “Sólo una vez, ¿puedo tener un polo sin jabón? ¿Por qué no podés hacer más fácil mi vida?” Su oración es similar a las palabras de Habacuc en Hab. 1:2 --¿Hasta cuando, Señor, he de perdirte ayuda sin que tú me escuches? ¿Hasta cuando he de quejarme de la violencia sin que tú nos salves?

Esto ha sido una semana difícil aquí en Buenos Aires. Muchas personas han muerto en el accidente. Las vidas de muchas familias han sido destrozadas. Todos nosotros sentimos el dolor y la tristeza. En este momento, compartimos su aflicción.

Es natural que nos preguntemos, “¿Dónde está Dios? ¿Por qué pasó esto?” Es natural las tener preguntas y dudas.

Los antiguos griegos creyeron que los dioses no podían sentir las emociones. Había cristianos herejes que argumentaron lo mismo, que Dios también no podía sentir las emociones: felicidades o tristezas. Pero esto es falso. No es la verdad. Dios lo entiende nuestro dolor. El Señor se siente nuestra pena.

Hay un versículo muy profundo en Juan 11:35. Jesús ha perdido su amigo, Lázaro. Jesús tenía el poder para salvarlo; pero no lo hizo. Sin embargo, cuando llegó Jesús, habló con la familia y las hermanas de Lázaro, María y Marta.

Juan 11:33-35

Al ver llorar a María y a los judíos que la habían acompañado, Jesús se turbó y se conmovió profundamente.

—¿Dónde lo han puesto? —preguntó. —Ven a verlo, Señor —le respondieron.

Jesús lloró.

Después, Jesús levantó a Lázaro, pero no quiero que extrañemos las emociones: Jesús lloró. El dios del universo, nuestro Creador, lloró. Se sintió el dolor y la aflicción de la familia y sus amigos. Y él todavía se siente nuestro dolor hoy. Entiende nuestras aflicciones. Cuando Dios se hizo hombre en Jesús, se hizo como nosotros en todos los aspectos, todas las maneras. “El Verbo se hizo hombre y habitó entre nosotros. ” (Juan 1:14). Dios nos entiende, y se siente nuestro dolor en este momento. Jesús conoció personas que murieron. Jesús lloró, y llora con nosotros hoy.

En la cena santa, celebramos a Jesús y sus acciones por los pecadores. Pero también quiero que recordemos al Verbo que se hizo hombre. El Dios que entiende nosotros, porque nos creó y habitó entre nosotros. Demos gracias a Dios por su entendimiento y amor.

-----------

Sometimes, life is full of pain and difficulties. This last weekend, I watched the film Luna de Avellaneda. In the film, Ricardo Darin, the main actor, plays a character with lots of problems in his lief: he is separated from his wife, his rlationship with his son is strained, he hates his job, and his passion, his sports club, is going to be closed. Darin feels sad and angry; he has lost his dreams. At one point in the film, Darin looks up and prays, "Just one time, could I have a pole without soap? (An alusion to something else in the film.) Why can't my life be easier?" His prayer is similar to the words spoken by Habakkuk (1:2) -- "How long, LORD, must I call for help, but you don't listen? Or cry out to you 'Violence,' but you do not save?"

This has been a difficult week here in Buenos Aires. Many people have died in a train accident. The lives of many families have been destroyed. All of us feel pain and sadness. In this moment, we share in their grief.

It is natural to ask ourselves, "Where is God? Why did this happen?" It is natural to have questions and doubts.

The ancient greeks believed that the "gods" couldn't feel emotion. There were Christian heretics who argued the same, that God couldn't feel happiness or sadness, the same emotions that we do. But that is false; it isn't the truth. The LORD understands our grief; he feels our pain.

There is a profound verse in John 11:35. Jesus has lost his friend, Lazarus. Jesus could have saved him, but he did not. He arrives late, on purpose! However, when Jesus arrived, he spoke with the family and Lazarus' sisters, Mary and Martha.

John 11:32-35

When Mary reached the place where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. “Where have you laid him?” he asked.

“Come and see, Lord,” they replied.

Jesus wept.

Afterwards, Jesus raised Lazarus. But I don't want us to miss the emotions: Jesus wept. The God of the universe, our Creator, cried. He felt the pain and grief of the friends and family. And he also feels our pain today. He understands our grief. When God became flesh and dwelled among us in Jesus, he became like us in every aspect, in every way. "The Word became flesh and dwelled among us..." (John 1:14). He understands us, and he feels our pain in this moment. Jesus lost friends who died. Jesus wept, and he still cries with us today.

In the Lord's Supper, we celebrate Jesus and his actions for sinners. But I also want us to remember the Word who became flesh, the God who understands us because he created us and lived among us. Let us give thanks to God for his understanding and his love.

Lord's Supper thought this week

Good friends

Hemos sido bendecidos con muchos amigos...

We have been blessed with many friends. When we talk about what we most love about Buenos Aires, it isn't the city, the museums, the food, or the atmosphere. It's the people: our readers, our friends, and our brothers and sisters in Christ.

One of the things that gives us the most satisfaction is inviting people over too our home. Last night one of my (Daniel's) good friends came over for dinner and stayed until after midnight. We are constantly invited to spend time with our friends here in BsAs at their homes, out to dinner, or in the park. One of our favorite activities is tomando un café, taking coffee with a friend. There are confiterías on every corner, and every neighborhood has their own favorite places to stop in for a coffee. We practice our Spanish, talk about ideas, and share faith over a coffee (or tea, soda, licuado, etc.)

We are truly blessed by the friendships we have made here. We are surprised at how close you can grow to people in the course of 6 months. We already have students telling us that they are going to miss us when we leave (which is 6 more months away!)

It brings to mind the passage that Paul writes to the Thessalonians in 1 Thessalonians 2:8 -- "Because we loved you so much, we were delighted to share with you not only the Gospel of God but our lives as well." It is great to be in a wonderful place with amazing people... In fact, it is the people that make this place so wonderful!

Thanks for your continued prayers and support!

Los Desaparecidos

In 1976 the military junta took control of the country of Argentina. In order to stop further anarchy, the government began to crack down on domestic terrorists who had been plaguing the government and police. They also began searching for political dissidents and anyone who disagreed with their current policies. They began rounding up individuals from all walks of life: professors, priests, students, Communists, actors, Socialists, former political workers, bankers… All types of people were taken from their homes, offices, and off the streets, and were never heard from again. They are known as “los Desaparecidos,” or “the disappeared.” It is estimated that more than 30,000 Argentines were killed by the military regime in the eight years of their rule.

Every Thursday a group of women wearing white headscarves gather in Plaza de Mayo to plead for justice and information. They are “las Madres de la Plaza de Mayo (the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo),” and they are family members (mothers, wives, and sisters) or those who disappeared during the regime. They have been working to bring justice for these individuals since 1977. They have their own radio station, office building, and public relations arm. They are seeking to raise

support for their cause. They don’t ever want the world to forget what has happened to these people.

As you walk around Buenos Aires, you will often find small plaques set into the ground. Some are plain; others are decorated with small painted stones or colorful pieces of glass. All of them tell a story. It gives the name of the individual (or individuals), the date they disappeared, and the (supposed) of which they were accused. You find them in the strangest places: there are ten outside of a bank in Microcentro (downtown). There are two that I have found within two blocks of our home. They are constant reminders of those who are no longer with us, and a reminder that we should mourn those who aren’t here any longer.

Los Desaparecidos… We have them within our churches as well. There are countless people who simply leave through the back door of our churches. Sixty percent of our youth leave the Churches of Christ by the time they graduate college. People get offended by another church member and simply stop coming. People quietly struggle with their faith or the challenges in their lives, and it is easier to stop coming to church than to feel lost or hypocritical. All of us, if we stopped and thought about it, could think of someone that we haven’t seen in a while. “Where is Brother/Sister So-and-so? I haven’t seen them in forever…” Where are their plaques? Where are the people championing for their needs? Where are their church family members standing vigil, waiting with the hope that they will return? Too often our own Disappeared simply disappear without anyone thinking a second thought.

Jesus calls us to unity; he challenges us to be one, and he prays for us to be one (see John 13-17). That means that we must seek to encourage all of our brothers and sisters in Christ. We must seek out those who have wondered away. We must bless those who are struggling. We must show love and compassion to those who have been wounded by churches. Jesus left the 99 to search for the lost 1; how can we do any less? The Mothers would give anything to have their lost children back; can we do any less for our brothers and sisters in Christ?

May our churches not be littered with thousands of plaques or vague remembrances of those who have disappeared. Instead, may we strive to bless those who have left our churches for whatever reason.

Los Argentinos: Los queremos que creer en Dios

Recently there was a front page story on a local newspaper, El Argentino:

"Messi cree en Dios." (Messi believes in God)

Messi is the top Argentine soccer player (I would argue of ALL time, but fans of others would beg to differ!) Messi plays for Barcelona, and has been awarded the FIFA World Player of the Year for the past two years (with two other second place wins.)

ANYWAY, I thought the article sounded interesting, so I flipped to the page where the full story was listed. Here's what it said, "Messi still believes that Maradona was a much better footballer than he will ever be..."

I was saddened to read the article. On one hand, I was blessed by the fact that one of the greatest players in the world is so humble. On the other hand, however, I am heartbroken for the fact that people of Argentina consider a man, Maradona, to be God.

For those of you alive in 1986, Diego Maradona was responsible for the infamous "Hand of God" goal that allowed Argentina to beat England. The referees missed the handling, but everyone else in the world could see it. Maradona, for decades, argued that he never handled it: if someone handled the ball, he argued, it must have been God. Maradona has had countless problems since, from alcohol to drugs.

However, he is still considered a role-model by most Argentines. His jerseys are seen everywhere. In fact, here is a picture on a building not far from our home
:

Despite all of his problems, many Argentines would love for their children to be just like Diego. Here is something written by the Houston Chronicle:

"To understand the gargantuan shadow Maradona casts over his soccer-mad homeland, one has to conjure up the athleticism of Michael Jordan, the power of Babe Ruth – and the human fallibility of Mike Tyson. Lump them together in a single barrel-chested man with shaggy black hair and you have El Diego, idol to the millions who call him D10S, a mashup of his playing number and the Spanish word for God."

In fact, many people here call Diego "Dios." He IS God to many of the Argentine people. There is even a CHURCH OF MARADONA! In Rosario, Argentina, locals organized the parody religion of the "Church of Maradona". The organization reformulates many elements from Christian tradition, such as Christmas or prayers, reflecting instead details from Maradona. It had 200 founding members, tens of thousands more have become members via the church's official web site. (Wikipedia)

Welcome to Argentina. The people here jokingly say that they go to church each week; it just happens to be a soccer stadium! They sing songs of praise and worship, they boo "the devil" (the other team's players or the referee), they sing about victory and triumph, sadness and pain. There is laughter, joy, sadness, and lament.

While I love juego hermoso (or juega bonitazi for my Portuguese friends), I don't live and die by the game. I am a fan (hincha), not a worshiper. I love watching the beautiful game, but it isn't a religion.

My prayer is that all Argentines will believe in God, that they can come to know him more and more. The true God, not the gods that men make for themselves or make out of themselves. May they come to know him more fully, wonderfully, and beautifully.

God bless each of you!