Ever since I was a baby, I have gone to the same church with my family. It belongs to the denomination The United Church of Christ (UCC), which besides the Unitarian Universalist Church, may be one of the most liberal branches of Protestantism. Our services aren't as formal as a traditional Catholic mass, but they aren't the "Praise Jesus!" types of services you may see at a Southern Baptist or Evangelical church. In my mind, it's a happy medium between the two.
So, last week, the guy I'm dating (I'll call him Jack*) invited me to his church. I accepted, because I could tell it was important to him, but I honestly didn't know what to expect. However, I'm no stranger to different types of church services, or services in Spanish. In El Salvador, I lived with a very Catholic family who practiced Liberation Theology, and went to mass with them every week (sometimes more than once). I also participated in Lutheran services in El Salvador, and I've been to an all-black Baptist church in Georgia.
I went with an open mind, and I was blown away.
The church service in itself was very different than anything I've ever experienced. There was lots of singing (including a full band to accompany: two guitars, bass, drums and auxiliary percussion), lots of praying out loud (I'm used to silent prayers), lots of "Amen"-ing, and in general, a lot of joy.
The best part was, though, by far, the people. Jack's church is in the población La Legua in San Joaquin. As we were driving in, he asked me if I had ever been to a población before. I said I hadn't. He said, "Well, the people are different." I asked what he meant by that. "They're warmer. They will come up to you and ask you how you are, they'll hug you, they'll welcome you."
It was all true. Practically everyone in the congregation gave me a big hug (I'm talking a bear hug here, not a polite squeeze), welcomed me, blessed me and in general were so warm and friendly. I left the church with a huge grin on my face, infected by the positive attitudes of those around me.
I took a huge, giant leap out of my comfort zone tonight, and it was one of the most rewarding experiences I've had so far in Chile. I know I'll go back to the church. Maybe I don't agree with every aspect of their theology, maybe I'm not comfortable shouting "Amen!" and praying out loud, but I know the members of the congregation are special. And for that, I'll be back. Amen.
*Jack is Chilean. I have had the luck (?) of dating three guys here in Chile whose names all begin with the same letter, so to avoid confusion, this will be his pseudonym. I know, you're thinking, at least pick a Spanish name! But, Jack invented it himself. We were talking the other day about how I like to write and how one day I want to write the story of my life. He said, "Well, you can't use my real name. You should call me Jack." So, Jack he shall be.
7 comments:
It sounds like a great experience for you. I went to a Christmas mass in the Dominican Republic in a poor community outside of a touristy town and it was great. My Spanish sucked at the time, but everyone was so nice and the Priest even pulled me up to the front to translate. I tried my best.
As far as people being friendlier in the poblaciones, I agree. I visited one in Santiago and one in Conce and people were so nice to us. We had someone who knew people there help us meet people but it was a great experience for me. I don't know if we had gone alone if it would have been the same.
Wow, what a great experience. I'm so glad Jack decided to share that part of his life with you and that it was so great. Can you describe the church sometime, what it looked like, how many people there were, if there were other youngish people, like you guys?
Hey, that sounds so cool, and hadn't you once blogged about how you wanted to go to a poblacion?
Is that an iglesia evangélica??
Sara: Yes, it was a great experience. I think you're right about going to poblaciones with people you know. I would never just walk into one.
Eileen: The church was what seemed to be an old banquet hall. There was a band up front on a stage. They projected the words of the songs onto a screen from a datashow (is that what it's called in English?). The walls were pink. Facing the stage was the congregation, in simple folding chairs. Maybe 40+ people there. There were young people, maybe a bit younger than me, plus people my age but with children of their own. There were actually people of all ages.
Kyle: yes! Good memory. It's funny because I didn't know I was going to a poblacion until I was on the way there.
Anonymous: It's actually a Mennonite church, but not the type of Mennonites that you normally think of (you know, similar to the Amish). Apparently the deomination is quite diverse. The name was something like Iglesia Evangélica Mennonita.
I had no idea that people still practiced Liberation Theology in (when I'm considering you were in Central America in the 2000s), which first of all, is pretty intriguing and which I would have loved to have witnessed first hand. I'd love to hear more about that.
But second, interesting post. I think a lot of people are skittish when it comes to writing about religion so it's refreshing to read this.
It is so refreshing to read positive, uplifting stories, regardless of where they come from. I grew up in Chile and I always felt more comfortable surrounded by the average person on the street than by those who came from the upper echelon of society.
My family was well-off and I had plenty of opportunities to rub shoulders with some of the “cuicos”, but somehow I always gravitated to spending time with the workers in my family’s business.
And in a sense I have found a very similar picture in Canada. I guess it’s fair to say that the less privileged are generally less concerned about material things and genuinely more interested in people.
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