I have discovered something about myself. I love going to church in Spanish. I mean, obviously I have a passion for the language (Why else would I be on the All-Spanish Route?), but there’s just something special about a Spanish-speaking church. It’s like every time I walk through the doors for a service, God transcends the little English box I tend to keep Him in, and I get to see how His Church reaches further than I could ever imagine.
This isn’t exactly a new idea for me, though. I’d say it started two years ago during my semester abroad in Buenos Aires. I got involved with a church there, my beloved Barrio Norte, and through that God provided me an incredible community of Christians to do life with in that season.
My wonderful church in Argentina
The greatest part of that community, though, is that very few of the church members are actually Argentine. They come from all over Central and South America (with a few gringas like myself thrown in), but they (we?) are united in one common language–Spanish.
It was during my time at that church that I first experienced Spanish worship, and I felt like I had been set free. I distinctly remember writing in my journal from that time, “I feel like I was born into the wrong language.” I learned worship songs in Spanish, heard sermons in Spanish, prayed in Spanish…it was as if my soul had found a home.
So with that as my foundation, these past few months in Central America have allowed me to experience that freedom again. I have had the extraordinary privilege of attending cultos (church services) in almost every country, and every single time I am overwhelmed by joy.
A service at our little church in El Salvador
Sometimes I understand every word, sometimes it’s hit-or-miss. Sometimes the songs are unknown to me, and sometimes they are translations of Hillsong music or old hymns I grew up on. No matter what, I feel like I am getting a little glimpse of what Heaven will be like, when every tribe and tongue and nation will be worshipping at the feet of the Lamb (Revelation 7:9).
Our host church in Honduras
But this month here in Panama has been particularly special because I have gone from a solely receiving the Word in Spanish to actively presenting it before congregations.
Translating my first sermon
Let me explain. Just a few weeks ago we underwent our first team changes since the Race began. While I’m definitely still mourning the loss of my dear, sweet, wonderful team Unidos Pa’lante, this “season of newness” has brought with it my new responsibility of primary translator.
A recap video of Team UP
It is now my responsibility to communicate on behalf of individual teammates and the team as a whole, and to also make sure that everyone is understanding what is being said. That also means that when we are asked to preach in church, who translates? Me!
It’s such a rush. I’m there, in front of everyone, trying to pull out all of my Spanish knowledge and accurately convey the message my teammate has prepared. And even though it’s exhausting sometimes (Language fatigue is a real thing, y’all.), I am more than happy to take on that challenge.
It is such a blessing to present the Gospel in the native language of the community in which I’m serving. Even though I personally am not preparing the sermons (maybe I’ll work my way up to that…), it’s still my words that are falling on the ears of the congregation. I have the privilege of bringing the Word, la Palabra. Christian history is full of prophets, those who are charged with giving messages from God to His people. The word “prophet” literally means “mouthpiece,” as if God Himself is using that person as a vehicle for His words. I’m not calling myself a prophet by any means (especially since, like I said, these sermons aren’t my own), but the significance of this work I am doing is not lost on me. I get to be a “mouthpiece” for God. He is using me and my Spanish to bring the Word to the nations.
Who knew that an experience at a little church in Buenos Aires would come full circle and lead me to this. God is so good and is preparing us for more than we know. I can’t wait to see what’s next.
