Last night we hiked up the mountain to preach in a gold mine.
We prepared for rain and cold. For treacherous terrain. What a night.
I thought of the circuit preachers I learned about so long ago. Day after day in every weather on horse back, facing indians who were shooting arrows. If they could do it, I could face possibly getting my feet wet. I could risk possibly a Quechua throwing me a hot drink and some food (which, as I said they love to do).
So we hiked, up and up, for almost an hour! The belly full of fried chicken I had slowed me down, and I had a fart which wouldn´t come out. When it did, I totally dutch ovened myself in my poncho. Am I called to this suffering?
I was preaching, and Ed had prepared me for about 100 men, fresh out of the mine, with mixed beliefs and the approaching holy week.
So I prepared my sermon. I am still writing them out totally, because my brain still freezes in front of people, but am actually enjoying preaching and was excited about this opportunity to run my mouth to people I don´t know.
So I preached on Gods desire for us to be his friends. His plan for that since the beginning. About how Satan messes this up. About how Jesus makes this possible. I preached that only Jesus, not his mother. That though Mary was blessed and I believe has a seat of honor in heaven, she still needed Jesus as her savior. She admits this in her song to God. Mary and the saints. Only God is all present and all powerful. Mary and the saints can´t hear our prayers. Even if they could, when Mary or the disciples tried to tell Jesus to do something out of the will of our father, Jesus rebuked them. Why do we think now that even the holiest of people could have that influence now, when Jesus is on the throne? Mary and the saints, great examples to emulate. People I look forward to meeting in heaven. But deaf and dumb and dead in the ground.
We arrived in the mining camp, and started greeting people. We are the first group of gringoes to enter this place according to some of the people. The girls could not stop touching Linnea´s hair. We played with the kids, and we entered a house to visit. This house, we found out, was the church. Not quite what I expected. This house was the size of a large living room and divided into 4 rooms. The largest room held about 15 of us standing, and 10 more in the door ways, not counting kids. Then we worshipped, pentecostal style, and felt like I was in a low key mosh pit.
We listened to some real peruvian music, which sounds like any indian sounding stuff I have heard. Very cool.
We then hiked on down in a driving mist, and we were in bed by 11pm. What an amazing day.
