Like I said in my last blog, Heather my teammate and I are teaching English at a local school this month. In a normal week, we’re in each classroom (grades kindergarten through sixth) two times a week for about an hour each class.
It’s exhausting, but lovely all at the same time. The kids are always excited to see what things their new gringo friends are going to teach them next. On a normal day, we also have about a 30-minute break for recess, and the first day we were at the school, two of the fifth grade girls took time with me to teach me a lot of the native Nicaraguan games that have songs along with them (think Little Sally Walker or Miss Mary Mack).
After about 20 minutes they’d kind of run out of games, and I decided that I wanted to contribute and share something with them, too. I wanted it to be something in Spanish since they didn’t know any English, and strangely enough, I did actually know one quick song from my days of living in Spain. Granted, I didn’t remember the words exactly and I didn’t really recall the hand motions either, but did I let any of those formalities slow me down? Heck no, and within 5 minutes I’d successfully taught them my version of the Pato Donald (Donald Duck, in English) song I’d learned from a 4-year-old in Spain.
It was just a little song with a little game to go along with it, and honestly, I didn’t think much of it. I’d just wanted to contribute something, and I figured we’d play it one or two times and then go back to the games they’d taught me.
But oh man, did it ever play out differently.
Those kids love Pato Donald. They played it that entire recess, with more and more kids joining in every round, and when we arrived at school the next day, I had kids that I didn’t even recognize asking me when they could play Pato Donald. It’s been almost 2 weeks now, and let me tell you, Pato Donald is famous. All the kids know the song and the hand motions, and I see them playing it in class and in groups walking out of school. It’s crazy to me how such a small thing that I barely remembered from living in Spain 4 years ago has become this game that an entire school in Nicaragua now knows.
Heather and I will only be at school for the rest of this month, but I’m confident Pato Donald will live on in the months to come. And who knows what gringos might come back here years later to find the kids at Escuela Ruben Dario still playing singing along?
Anyway, the point of this blog is not, surprisingly, to inform you about the the amazing success (I kid!) with which I introduced a game into a school. It’s what God slammed dunked over me that’s way more interesting.
I didn’t think the kids would care about my game. They had their own games, after all. And in my song, I was pretty sure I didn’t even have the Spanish perfectly right. Why even mention it? Why even share it? What impact could it have?
Sometimes I think we see the gospel in the same way.
A bunch of words that don’t have any real power or lasting impact. Sometimes I think we see ourselves as unworthy vessels for delivering such a message—who am I, to tell these people what Jesus said? I haven’t gone to bible school. I don’t know the Greek. I don’t have the cleanest track record. Who am I?
I’ve forgotten, in the midst of language barriers and busyness and other books, that the gospel has real authority, in and of itself, apart for me. There’s something so attractive about Jesus and in what He did and what He continues do in our lives, and honestly, I’ve lost the ability to really believe that, over the years. That reading the word of God to someone isn’t just some consolation prize to a sermon or a prayer—it’s life itself! It’s God himself!
I’ve learned here that even the smallest and most insignificant thing, in my own mind, can bring so many so much joy. Pato Donald isn’t going to be changing anyone’s lives, but it’s a reminder that words have power apart from what we assign to them. And if a song about a duck buying bread can spread across a school, how much more so the word of God! I don’t want to let The Good News become like all the other news I’m bombarded with everyday. Don’t let the gospel become something secondary—something you just quote in sermons or hymns—and don’t let a 10 second song you learned 4 years ago become an easier thing to share than the gospel.
The words will speak for themselves—I’m confident of that—just don’t be afraid to speak them.
Pato Donald fue la feria,
a comprar un pan de media,
como media no habia,
Pato Donald se reia.
Ha-he-hi-ho-hu,
Pato Donald eres tu!
I am the living bread
that came down from heaven.
Whoever eats this bread will live forever.
This bread is my flesh, which I will give
for the life of the world.”
-John 6:51
