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I’m in Palenque, Mexico. Within jogging distance are the most significant and best-preserved Mayan ruins in the world (so say the locals, at least). Even after a span of over one thousand years, much of the culture has maintained a rich Mayan influence. There are still two hundred villages surrounding Palenque, where indigenous dialects are spoken instead of Spanish. It may be surprising to some of you (it was to me) that persecution is a major issue here. Our contact has witnessed Catholic priests ordering the burning of Protestant churches and homes. This is in the 21st Century! Superstition and mysticism are widespread because there is very little being done to teach the truth. The vast majority of people in this region have never read the Bible, and we hear testimony after testimony of lives being radically transformed upon obtaining the personal and living Word of God. Thus, our contact’s primary ministry is running a Bible Institute for local pastors, preachers, and Sunday school teachers. No one who works at this Bible Institute gets paid, yet God steadily provides volunteer pastors who pay their own expenses to come and teach. It’s an absolute joy hearing all the ways in which God is providing for this otherwise completely unassisted project, from how they acquired the building and how it is maintained, to how speakers continue to volunteer, to how so many lives and communities are changed because of it.

I’m also really excited about some of the ministry we plan to do next week. We’re going to be traveling to one of the indigenous Mayan villages, bringing with us our tents, Bibles, and some live chickens as gifts (cluck cluck). Hopefully they receive us and God opens doors. If things go well, we’ll stay with them for several days and find our own way home (our contact won’t be staying with us). Pretty wild.
 

 

But in this blog, I’m actually not as interested in giving you a picture of Palenque as I am in sharing with you about what happened yesterday. I saw God move in ways I’ve never seen before. Yes, I probably say that in every blog, but I challenge you to number all the ways in which God can move! Okay, so we went to a prison and my heart immediately connected with the men there. I think I know why, and I’ll tell you. Two weeks ago I spent the afternoon praying with my brother via Internet chat. We prayed together literally minutes before he left for jail. I’m so thankful God allowed us that moment; it meant a lot to me, and I believe it meant a lot to him, too. I’ve been gone ten months now, and it hasn’t always been easy being distant from family and friends. My bro and I committed to pray for each other every day while he’s there. He’s been through some really hard times, and I obviously wanted to be there for him during this one. But for some reason, God hasn’t ordained that. Instead, He sent me to visit the men of Chiapas State Penitentiary.

I can’t post any pictures or video because of security issues, but let me just say that God was really moving not only in my heart, but also in the hearts of many of the prisoners. Before we presented to them a drama, I felt led to say, in simple words through basic translation, exactly what was on my heart:  “Being here is very important to me. My brother is also in jail right now in the US. I want to visit him, but I can’t. Instead, God brought me here to visit you. I know there is a good reason for this.”

We presented a drama, gave some testimonies, played a few songs in English (and one in Spanish), and the local pastor preached. I could understand a little of what he was saying. He said, “God has taken these people away from their families in the US because He loves you and you need to know it. They have traveled millions and millions of kilometers to tell you this.” We might not have traveled millions of kilometers, but we absolutely believe God brought us to share the hope and love of Christ to these men who so rarely get visitors. The day of ministry was truly incredible. I couldn’t believe it when some of the tattoo-covered, knife-scarred men had tears in their eyes. I can’t imagine the pain, regret, or hopelessness some of them must be going through on the inside. I hugged an elderly man who has probably been behind bars since before I was born and he started crying in my arms. A grown man crying in my arms in front of all the other inmates! What sort of inner turmoil must he have been going through? Our drama was about Christ’s blood breaking the chains of this world and giving us eternal freedom. Isn’t that simply the most beautiful message anyone could ever receive? Isn’t it also the message we probably take for granted most often? I saw in some of their faces that they profoundly understood the need for Christ’s forgiveness. I saw in their trembling that they desperately desired Christ’s renewed hope for a bright future. And I saw in their tears that they cherished such a message. Jesus was so right… those who are forgiven much love much.

Perhaps the coolest moment of all, though, came after we finished ministering to them. It came as yet another shock to me, but it was so awesome. A huge crowd of maybe thirty prisoners came forward in front of everyone and decided to bless us in return before we left. In the unity of Christ, they raised their hands and spent time in really sweet prayer for us. And I just sat there in worship, receiving love from men hardened by the chains of prison, but softened by the grace of God.
 

 

 

 

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