Our 2nd Anniversary!!!

Two years ago this morning we arrived in Madrid as new missionaries in Spain.  I still hardly knew the language and Rachel had a roller coaster of emotions about coming back to the land of her birth and childhood.  Since that day, a lot has changed for us.  We've lived in Córdoba and then moved to Alcora, here in eastern Spain.  I've learned the language...or, rather, I'm still learning the language.  We've gone from being the newest missionaries on the field to being somewhat new missionaries whom the more seasoned ones consult when they have questions about the newest arrivals.  We've gone from being missionaries purely in language acquisition and cultural adaptation to being church planters, even though I'm still perfecting the language and we're still observing and learning about the local culture here in Alcora.  Oh yeah, and we've gone from being a couple to being a family, with the addition of our precious Miriam Joy.

Thinking about this, I have two reflections.  First, God has been incredibly faithful to us in countless ways.  From finding apartments to rent to the details of moves and Miriam's birth and paperwork and ministry and faithful supporters who make it possible for us to do what we do, it is clear that our Lord has walked ahead of us, with us, and behind us with each step of our journey.   We are profoundly grateful for this.

Second, as we've talked about our journey lately, we feel like we've reached the end of the honeymoon stage of our transition from missionary candidates to missionaries.  The first year and a half here was chocked full of firsts and novelties:  new language and culture to learn, completing language school, the grand accomplishment of getting our drivers licenses, my first sermon in Spanish, new trips and places to see, moving to Alcora to begin a new ministry, becoming part of a new team, and becoming new parents.  Now there aren't quite so many "BIG" things to look forward to, and we are settling into a certain mundane, routine life living here in Alcora and discerning how we can best serve as Jesus' witnesses to the people of this pueblo.  And, quite honestly, there is something new and bewildering about this stage of the "mundane," so please pray that we will walk with the Lord closely as we continue our journey with Him during this third year of our life in Spain.

First Spanish Youth Retreat

Honestly, I was a bit reluctant to accept the invitation.  Mostly out of my own insecurity about my ability to speak and communicate well in Spanish...make that entirely out of my own sense of insecurity about it.  I've only lived here in Spain for a year and a half and have been speaking (or stumbling through) Spanish for the same, so how could I possibly communicate Scriptural, spiritual truth relevantly to Spanish teenagers?  Sure, I was a youth pastor for five years in the States, but I still haven't had much opportunity to get into the world of adolescents in here.  Even so, at the urging of a fellow missionary, as well as my wife, in mid-September I accepted the invitation to give a couple of messages at a youth retreat the first weekend in November.

So how did it go?  I learned once again that God shows up in our weaknesses and uses us when we simply say "YES" to simple invitations to be His messengers.  That's not to say it wasn't a lot of work on my part in preparation and having poor Rachel correct my still-shaky Spanish.  But God used me to connect His truth with teenagers, even in spite of my lack of vocabulary and questionable grammar.  More than one leader told me, "You have a real way of connecting with youth," and even several teens told me, "I really connected with your talks."  It turns out that Spanish teenagers (at least this group) aren't all that different from their American counterparts:  they're open to God, and they need to hear the truth presented directly and vulnerably, even if that means sharing our own questions and failures with them.  So God is good, He is faithful, and He uses weak, imperfect, cracked jars of clay.  Lesson learned, once again...

Lost enough to let myself be led...

We're pretty well settled into our apartment here in Alcora, and since my greatly withchild wife is taking a much needed nap, I have some time to share some honest thoughts about where we're at...or where I'm at, at least.

About a month ago as I was driving our moving truck from Córdoba to Alcora, I had a lot of time to think about life: where we've been and where we're going, what we're doing and why we're doing it.  And as I was reflecting, I began to feel overwhelmed and pretty small in the midst of being a 'missionary in Spain.'

So the questions began to fly through my head:  What am I doing here in Spain?  Is it possible that I (a guy from a tiny town in Illinois) could be of any use to God and His desire to save Spaniards?  What does it mean to be a church planter?  In a town in Spain?  I'm going to be a father soon--I don't know how to do that, so what kind of father will I be?  And will I still be able to be a good and Godly husband for my wife?  In a word, I was feeling lost.

But God, in His graciousness, had a word for me during that 7 hour drive.  In the midst of the questions and the sense of being overwhelmed because of my lack of answers, I was listening to a Rich Mullins CD, his final one before his untimely death in 1997, called 'The Jesus Demos.'  The first song on that album is called 'Hard to Get,' and near the end of the song there is a line that says, 'I can't see how You're leading me unless You've led me here, to where I'm lost enough to let myself be led...'  And the Holy Spirit spoke quietly as my tears began to fall.

When we still lived in the States, I didn't realize just how much control I had over my life.  Speaking, preaching, leading Bible studies, knowing who I was and where I was going--I pretty well could do it all on autopilot.  But here in Spain, right here and right now, I feel so much more out of control.  I still butcher Spanish on a daily (sometimes hourly) basis and still get nervous when answering the telephone.  No, I don't know how to be a father, not to mention that I'm still working through some of my own father wounds at a whole new level.  No, there is no guarantee that Spaniards will respond to the Gospel and that we'll have 'success' (whatever that is) in planting a church in Alcora.

None of my questions have clear, easy, definitive answers, and that's OK.  I am here, God is walking with me through this time of change and uncertainty, and there is no doubt that He is leading me and will mold me through this new experience.  I am, indeed, where God wants me to be, lost enough to allow Him to lead me.

If you're interested, below is a pretty good rendition of that Rich Mullins song by Phil Stacey:

An honest reflection on mass

Rachel is away at a conference this week, so, since I didn't have any other commitments for this morning, I decided to go to mass at the local Catholic parish in the barrio.  I'd been wanting to go to a mass for quite some time now, and I'm glad it finally worked out.  So I'll give a few bullet point reflections, and I'm going to take the risk of being honest, perhaps superficial, and not too theologically deep.

• Nervous:  For a few different reasons, I was nervous as I walked to the church.  Normally I have Rachel and her perfect Spanish to hide behind, but without her, if someone asked me a question, I'd have to understand and respond on my own, which makes me a bit nervous still.  I was also a bit nervous because I wasn't entirely certain of what to expect.  I've been to mass a few times in my life, but never in Spain.  I like new things, but they do make me nervous.
• No one really talked to me.  It turned out that reason #1 for my nervousness was unwarranted, since the only personal contact I had was with two people sitting near me during the 'Passing of the Peace.'  On one hand, that was relieving.  On the other, it's kind of sad that you walk into and out of church or a worship service without being noticed, welcomed or such.  Maybe that's just my American evangelical small church mindset talking.
• A dirty look.  Although hardly anyone talked to me, the older lady who collected the offering did seem to give me a dirty look when she walked by and I didn't toss any money in the offering basket.  I'm guessing that she was thinking, 'Tú no eres de aquí, ¿verdad?' ('You're not from around here, are you.').
• Following along:  For the most part, I was able to follow along with the priest, though I didn't even attempt to respond with the congregation at the appropriate places.  No bulletin, no outline, no guideline for what was going on.  Everyone seemed to have it pretty well memorized.  As for the standing up and sitting down, that was pretty easy to follow along with.
• Sermon?  OK, so obviously I'm going to show my Protestant evangelicalism here, but I was amazed that there was absolutely no sermon, lesson, or homily.  The priest did read the story of the woman caught in adultery from John 8 (I was the only one with a Bible to follow along), but then after that he just commented that he always wondered where the man she was caught with ended up and why he wasn't there...And that was it!  Not even a five minute spiritual thought or brief challenge.
• Just the Wafer:  While the priest enjoyed both the body and the blood of Jesus, the congregation just got the wafer.  I find that interesting and I'm not sure what the thinking is behind that.  I decided to respect the Catholic Church's policy, so I didn't go up for a wafer.
• Old and Female:  There were approximately 40 people in attendance, which is a bit sad since it's one of two parishes in our barrio, where about 10,000 or 15,000 people live.  Of the 40 people, I was the youngest by far, and about 80% of the congregants were elderly women.  There may have been five men in attendance.
• Short:  The mass started at just after 11 a.m. and ended right at 11:30.  It was a bit like a flight I once had between Cincinnati and Louisville:  as soon as we left the airport we began our initial descent.  
• And Not So Sweet:  Honestly, I left thinking, 'Did we really do anything in there?'  The priest did his thing with a few readings, the congregation responded from rote memory a few responses, they said a few prayers, they ate a wafer and the priest drank the wine, and then we left.  Honestly, there was no life or liveliness to it, and it wasn't difficult to figure out why there was no one else there even close to my age.  Unless you're fascinated by religiosity and going through religious motions, what would be the point in going to mass?  That's not to question the motives of those who were there, which certainly isn't my place, but if they were excited or thrilled to be worshiping the Almighty Triune God who loves them so much, it sure was left unexpressed in any way, shape or form.  If that's all that God demands, asks or wants of you--to go to a 30 minute mass, mouth some words and get a wafer--He's kind of a weak and uninterested god, probably not one worth worshiping.  And, yes, I know--by firsthand experience--that this same sort of thing happens in many of our Protestant evangelical churches in the U.S.

So there you have it.  No, it's not the feel-good reflection of the year, and it shouldn't be. The Catholic Church is in grave danger here because people aren't interested in the religious forms they're offering...What people need is an encounter with the living Christ, in some form or other, and then allow their meetings and rituals to be in service of that relationship.  Please pray for the Catholic Church and for Spaniards, that they would hunger and thirst for Christ, and please pray for us, that people would encounter Him through us.

There's Something About Mary...

So after writing the previous post regarding the Day of the Immaculate Conception (of Mary), I had a very well thought-out response from some dear loved ones that sparked some further reflection on this whole issue. Essentially, they cautioned us against what we too often tend to do as 'Protestant Evangelicals,' as Christians, or as people in general: swing from one end of the pendulum to the other, or in their words, 'we throw the baby out with the bathwater.' As Rachel and I talked about the issue of Mary, specifically as it regards the worship of 'The Virgin' here in Spain and the evangelical response to that, Rachel pointed out that she cannot remember ever hearing a sermon here (in all of her 18-19 years in Spain) about Mary. Up to now in my brief experience here, I have yet to hear much about Mary: it seems as if the evangelicals here in Spain (and perhaps elsewhere in the world) are nearly afraid to even utter the name of Mary because of the cultural baggage and images of idol worship it seems to bring to their minds.

So what do we do with Mary? Should we be afraid to talk about or preach on her (especially given our context here in Spain)? An acquaintance of ours (who is a typical Spanish Roman Catholic) recently asked me specifically about this, so I'll tell you basically what I told her. We need to look at Mary as the Biblical witness presents her: a magnificent example of faith and obedience to God. When invited to be a part of what God was doing to save the world, she gave herself--heart, mind and body--completely to the service of the Lord. She carried Jesus in her womb, raised Him as a son, and watched Him die on the cross. What an amazing example of faith and sacrifice to God! Certainly she was still a normal human, still a sinner in need of being saved by the One to whom she gave birth, so we should not worship her--our worship is reserved for the Triune God alone. As the photo from the movie The Nativity Story displays above, the spotlight of our worship must remain on Jesus, the God-man who came to save us. But we cannot deny that Mary is still very much a part of that story of salvation, a woman whose great courage and faith we would do well to emulate as we seek to live our lives in submissive love to God.

For those interested in a fairly in-depth Catholic-Evangelical dialogue about Mary (my apologies that the Eastern Orthodox perspective isn't represented), click HERE.

What We Like About Our New Home

A couple of months ago we listed several things that we miss about our life in the States. Of course, that's only half of the story. While we definitely miss the States, we're discovering aspects of our new life in Spain that we really do appreciate and even enjoy. So here are 7 things that we really like here:

1. La Alegría: Translated into English, this word means happiness or gladness, and it really describes the attitude of Andaluces very well: they love to enjoy life and are naturally loud people (as I write this I can hear the men at the corner bar yelling 'Gol!!!' as their team scores). On top of that, Andaluces seem to enjoy being very helpful: if you ask an older couple for directions here, be prepared for both of them to lean into your car window shouting directions at the same time, at a rate that's probably faster than you can understand.
2. Our ECM Spain Team: We just came back from our annual ECM Spain Team retreat, and we really enjoyed being together with our teammates (here is a photo of everyone). Some, like our team leader Francis Arjona, have deep, old connections with Rachel's family (he changed her diapers), and others are quickly becoming new friends.
   
3. The Late Culture: Breakfast tends to be optional or around 11 a.m. (during the morning work break), lunch is around 2 or 3 p.m., and dinner can be as late as midnight in the summer. Also, it's very normal and very safe to be on the streets until midnight or later, which is a bit different from living in Amish country: it was safe, but it sure wasn't normal to see people out and about at midnight.
4. The Rich History: I (B.J.) have still not gotten over the fact that every morning on the bus I ride by Roman ruins from about 2000 years ago. Being a fan of history, particularly of Greco-Roman history, and being from a country whose history only reaches back a few hundred years, this is a paradise for me.
5. Our Neighbors: Our two most immediate neighbor ladies in our apartment building have really taken to Rachel and treat her just like one of them, including giving us samples of the food they're cooking for lunch and sending their daughters to our apartment for trick-or-treating (Halloween, for better or worse, is becoming more popular here). This has been a source of great blessing for us and for them, we think.
6. Reconnecting with Old Friends: Rachel has 18 years of history here, 15 of which were here in the province of Córdoba. We've found that her parents, Ron and Brenda Anderson, had a great impact on the lives of so many people, and because of that, Rachel has been able to reestablish old relationships. Here's a photo of Rachel with her favorite elementary school teacher, Don Valeriano, who we happened to run into as we were walking through Montilla, the town where she used to live.
7. Language School: This may sound nerdy, but I enjoy learning, and going to language school has been enjoyable most of the time (frustrating at times, too!). I'm finding that there are varying levels of fluency, and I'm coming to a place where I'm not quite as scared to pick up the telephone as I was before. What's more is that Jesus seems to provide opportunities on a weekly and sometimes daily basis for me to share about my relationship with Him, and it's challenging me to express my faith not only in Spanish, but in a way that is relevant to generally postmodern non-believers.
   

Layers of Baggage

In this photo, you can see the layers of history that have made Córdoba what it is today. In the background is the famous Mezquita, the mosque founded on the site of Visigothic cathedral shortly after the Muslims invaded and conquered the land in the 8th century A.D.. Actually, only the lower part of the Mezquita was used as a mosque; the higher, taller portion is the cathedral that was built on top of the ancient Mezquita after the Catholic kings overthrew the reign of the Arabs around 1236 AD. So the current cathedral is built on top of an ancient mosque which was built on top of an even more ancient Visigothic cathedral.

And off to the left you see the famous 'Puente Romano,' the Roman bridge, which was originally built during the first century A.D. Actually, for Cordobeses, the bridge is more infamous than famous now, because, if you can tell from the photo, just a few years ago it was restored in a way that greatly modernized it and covered its very Roman, historical look.

There are layers of history here in Spain, and with that there is beauty but also layers of baggage that I'm just now beginning to uncover. This baggage has become especially evident to me in recent weeks as I've had several conversations with a gal on the bus I ride regularly to language school in the morning. She knows that I'm an evangelical pastor, and she's been surprisingly open to talking with me about spiritual things (albeit completely in Spanish, which is still challenging for me). But what I've discovered is that words and concepts I take for granted carry a lot of cultural and religious baggage for her that they don't for me. For example, her concept of 'Church' is characterized by the power-seeking, money hungry, male-driven institutional force of the Catholic Church that has allowed priests to abuse children for centuries. When I mention the word 'Bible,' she tends to think of it as a book of stories primarily about men, put together by men, ultimately to oppress or neglect the place of women (kind of Conspiracy Theory meets Feminism meets Dan Brown).

There's a lot of spiritual, religious and cultural baggage here in Spain, and we're just beginning to understand it. The question we're wrestling with is this: How do we relevantly and intelligently engage these Spaniards with the Good News that can peel back the layers and cut to their hearts, meeting their most basic need? Surely this is just the beginning of this discussion.

A Few Things We Miss About the States

Now that we've lived here in Spain for four months, we've realized that there are certain things we miss about living in the States. Don't get us wrong, we are enjoying learning how to live here (most of the time), but there is still a very real grief process that we're going through as we acclimate to our new country and culture. So here's our top 7 list of things we miss about our old life:

1. The Quiet: At times we might have complained that Myerstown, PA lacked life or that it was too quiet, but now we miss the tranquility of living in Amish country. Our apartment is located on a busy corner in our barrio, so we can hear most everything going on around us. This includes cars, motorcycles, the neighbors upstairs, the teenager down the street yelling, '¡Mamá!' and the mother's response, '¿Qué pasa, niña?!' and pretty much everything else that makes noise until at least midnight. Here's a view of our corner from our balcony.
   
2. Family & Friends: This probably is obvious, but it's a very noticeable absence we feel in our life. Yes, Rachel's parents and brother are only 4 hours away, but everyone else is very far. We miss our seminary townhouse community, our family spread throughout the States, and the general feeling of knowing that we belong with a group of people.
3. Green Grass & Trees: Just a few short years ago, Rachel would make fun of her mother for continually saying, 'Oh, I miss the trees and the freshly cut grass of the States.' As it turns out, Rachel really misses that now, since we have to go to a public park to find halfway decent grass. We will especially miss the beautiful bouquet of autumn colors found at Evangelical Seminary in Myerstown.
4. American Customer Service & Efficiency: Sure, Spaniards can be nice, but it tends to be a surprise for us. Well-known adages like 'The customer is always right' are thrown out the window here. In addition to this, efficiency isn't exactly a core value for Spaniards, especially judging by our 6 month wait for our visas. No, the U.S. may not always be the most efficiently run place in the world, but we do miss the general efficiency we took for granted there.
5. The Ease of Driving: At the moment, Rachel is studying for her driver's license and perfecting her skill of driving a manual transmission car. In the States, this simply wasn't an issue with the ease of automatics (not many of those here) and the generally straightforward nature of roadsigns and traffic lights. Here there are roundabouts, a myriad of new signs to learn, and a very defensive aggressive attitude when it comes to driving, not to mention the abundance of parking spots.
6. Language: I'm doing all right learning the language, and though I'm getting more functional every day, I'm still so far from fluent and comfortable. This means that the majority of phone calls, business matters and general communication issues land on Rachel's shoulders, which is a complete reversal of our roles in the States. We're navigating this issue OK, and it's beginning to get better, but it has been a cause of great general and marital stress for us. God's been gracious to us, but we do miss the comfort of how our life functioned back in the States as a result of me knowing the language.
7. Baseball: It turns out that Spaniards don't care about baseball...at all. As a Midwestern boy, baseball, especially St. Louis Cardinals baseball, is simply in my blood, and it's probably a part of my cultural upbringing that will never die. While I can check the scores and highlights online, it simply isn't the same. Not to mention that I miss being able to play wiffle ball with my buddies on the lush green lawn of the seminary.

Well, thanks for letting us vent a little bit...it's been therapeutic. And, if you've made it this far reading the post, thank you and congratulations, because you now have a little more insight on what this cross-cultural adaptation is like for us. Without doubt, God has been faithful, but at the same time He's stretching us and allowing us to grieve our losses as we learn to call Spain 'home.'

Saying Goodbye...

An important module of our training at MTI in December was on the value and significance of saying, "Goodbye." So as we reflect on our past few months, we've said a number of goodbyes, to family, friends, and past chapters of our life as we walk into the newest chapter God is writing with us. Below are a few slides with photos of people to whom we've said, "Goodbye," during our time of waiting; those in the photos are simply representative of the greater whole of people and places with whom we are bittersweetly parting ways, though we hope that our goodbyes are simply "See you later's".