Mario is wasted. We see it in his eyes and hear it in his slurred Spanish ramblings. Natalie and I are sitting on the curb across the street from the corrugated steel room, open to the street, that is Salim Iglesia. Church is letting out, “Gloria Dios!” is echoing down the street, the lights are glowing and people are joyfully celebrating their knowledge of the one true God. But Mario sits here with us, watching the scene, his brokenness as evident as the tattoos covering his arm and face.
He looks at me and slurs something about “cuando soy dieceocho…” (“when I was eighteen…”). I cannot understand him, but as he speaks he puts his head between his knees. As he looks back up at me, I see a cry of desperation in his bloodshot eyes. He grabs Natalie’s hand and kisses it, then does the same to mine, and keeps speaking more slurred words to us. I am frustrated that I cannot understand what he is saying…I cannot understand the direct source of his pain. But I know the root of it.
I look into Mario’s eyes and though I know he won’t remember or comprehend my words, I can’t help myself. “Mario, sabes que necesitas?” (Mario, do you know what you need?) …he shakes his head and looks again at me quizzically. “Necesitas el poderoso de JesuCristo en su vida.” (You need the power of Jesus Christ in your life). I know that my words fall on uncomprehending ears, that he is too far gone on drugs and alcohol this night to understand or be changed. But I can’t help it. My heart cries out to God, begging for salvation for this man. I will only be here one more week, but there is a light shining in Mario’s life, and it is through Salim Iglesia.
Mario, gang-bound, drug and alcohol dependent, without hope or true love and joy in his life, sits on my left, and he is a stark contrast to Ricardo on my right. Ricardo is a Christian and knows the hope and love of Jesus Christ. He is full of joy and is a faithful member of Salim Iglesia. He speaks Spanish and Chol (a local Mayan dialect) and is an eager student of English. Together we look up some verses in his Bible, which has Spanish and English side-by-side. My Spanish is broken and insufficient for true conversation, but as we read verses together in both languages, I realize this is the “moment” I’ve been waiting for God to reveal to me here in Palenque.
Our ministry in Palenque is working with Salim Iglesia and Pastor Noe. Sharing testimonies, teaching, doing a drama and celebrating Christ alongside the church three nights a week has been wonderful and encouraging. But still I wondered exactly what was being accomplished by our being there, or if we were missing some point.
Sitting on the curb by the church with Mario and Ricardo, suddenly I could see a bit of what God is teaching me. Like Mario, there are many, many broken people in Palenque, bound up in sin and hurting. But like Ricardo, there are people who know JesuCristo and long to see his power in Palenque. God is already working in Palenque. It is not up to short-term missionaries like World Racers to go and do great things. We merely get to observe the work that is already going on, and by being there alongside the church, we encourage them in their faith, just as they encourage us.
