I've spent the last week visiting the third church in this global exploration of leadership, La Iglesia Luterana Fe y Esperanza in Nicaragua (ILFE). I had written a letter several months back to the ELCA Global Mission folks who work in Latin America and the Caribbean, asking them for suggestions on other churches to visit that were doing good work in lay leadership development, and they suggested I visit Nicaragua. After six days, over 500 kilometers in the red pick-up, and visits to six different faith communities, I'm glad they did.
I began my week with a drive to the town of Somoto, where Pastor Melba leads four faith communities as they seek to grow in their understanding of God's mission and to strengthen the foundation of their common life. They were excited to show me their solar-powered irrigation project, one of two pilot programs in the church, which demonstrated how crops could do if given the right amount of water at the right time.
Pastor Melba shows Pastor Mario and Francisco the difference between irrigated and non-irrigated corn.
I spent Sunday preaching in the
central church of the ILFE, with worship led by Bishop Victoria Cortez and
others on the pastoral team. Bishop Victoria, a native of El Salvador, founded
this church 25 years ago, and she leads it with a clear vision, a strong will,
and a compassionate heart. After the formal worship had ended, she kept asking
for folks to stay for "un ratito mas," just a little bit more, as one
by one she called forward families grieving the loss of loved ones, one family
whose daughter/sister was moving to the US, another family that was joining the
church through confirmation, all for prayer and the laying on of hands and
blessing.
The next trip was to the town of Somotillo, close to
the Honduran border in the Northwestern part of the country, where a dozen
faith communities of the ILFE are located. Pastor Gerson leads five of them
(and there's a sixth one that is just starting), and his story and his energy
are an inspiration to me and to many. He told me he had always been a leader in
social and political circles, but he became a Lutheran when the church showed
up after Hurricane Mitch in 1998. He's been a leader in the church ever since,
and he will be ordained as a presbyter (the highest level of ordination in the
church) when the ILFE celebrates their 25th anniversary in a few weeks. The
church offered to buy him a motorbike to get between his various congregations,
but he prefers a bicycle, often putting on 30 kilometers or more a day.
I also got to conduct a number of interviews, as well
as teach a class on Baptism to a group of pastors and leaders.
The game of knots proved to be a fun
way to learn about living together
as the baptized family of God.
While much of what I've seen and heard
and experienced in these three countries these past two months has to do with
the unique and marvelous beauty of each individual story, I hope to
glean a few things that can be generalized enough to help me with my work with
Agora. One possible theme emerged for me late last night, after we had
concluded a workshop in the congregation of La Sagrada Familia (The Sacred
Family), just outside of Somotillo. After Pastor Mario led a review of the 10
commandments and we had a light snack, the group (which was all women) asked
Pastor Mario, Francisco, and me if we would help them replace the barbed wire
fence in front of the church. It was already getting late (the sun sets here
around 6:30), and it was still over 90 degrees, but we set about the work. We
pulled out the old, rotting logs that made up the old fence, removed the barbed
wire that had been nailed to the logs, and dug the holes for the new logs, all
of which had been cut from nearby trees. It was hard work, done with primitive
tools (no post-hole diggers to be found), but we worked together, some folks
digging holes with a long iron rod and others scooping out the dirt with their
hands, then tapping in rocks to hold the posts secure. If a post was too long,
an older woman took out a machete and hacked off the end to make it fit.
I thought later, if there was a
similar situation in the States, we'd call in the experts. We'd either hire out
the job, or we'd gather the folks in the congregation who had the tools and the
expertise, and we'd let them handle it. But here, everyone did their part, we
all got our hands dirty, and the fence got fixed. It wasn't perfect, but the
job got done (it was too dark and I was too sweaty to take any pictures).
I wonder if we haven't done the same
thing with leadership in the church. Too often, we've left theology to the
"experts," either those who are professionals or those who are known
to have the right tools and experience, and others just sit back and let them
do the work. One thing that's becoming clear in all these visits and interviews
is that if the church in the US is going to grow like many of our partners
around the world, we need to stop entrusting all the work to experts. We need
to find a way to engage and release the gifts of all kinds of people to lead in
all kinds of ways. Perhaps another way to say it is that we need to open up our
definition of expertise, recognizing that each person has their own unique kind
of expertise, and we need all hands to get dirty in doing the work in front of
us, God's work. Trabajo de Dios, manos nuestras. God's work, our hands. Indeed.
As I look back on these trips, I
return to the word with which I began, gratitude. I'm grateful for it all, for
the long rides in pick-up trucks, the meals made and blessed by so many hands,
the stories of faith and hardship and joy in serving, the hard work and the
laughter, and the gracious welcome I received time and again. And I'm grateful
for the work that lies ahead, processing the many interviews and hoping to
discover new ways that our church can live out some ancient truths, getting my
hands dirty, along with so many others, as together we do the work in front of
us, building communities and loving our neighbors. Asante sana, mil gracias,
thanks for reading.
