Everywhere I’ve ever been I’ve attended some kind of church. Just about every Sunday, in fact – even if it’s just my dad preaching to the family in the car on the way home from grandma’s house. I’ve come to expect a few things from a church service. I’m used to trickling in around the time we’re supposed to start, and getting settled with a few songs from the worship team. I’m used to reading the bulletin with the church while one of the junior pastors reads announcements, and then pulling out my wallet for the offertory. I’m used to sitting attentively quiet when the pastor preaches (except of course for laughing at his jokes) and then singing a few more songs before filing out and heading home. This might not quite be your church experience, but I’ve found the differences between all the churches I’ve gone to are very few and small. I’m not saying this is a bad thing. I’ve attended these churches, and learned many good truths from them, my whole life. I’ve worshiped God with thousands of people together, corporately, and I believe we have worshiped in honesty and a real desire to know God.
What I have never seen in church is what I have experienced here in Arroyo Cano. Living in the church, we can’t exactly miss people meeting in the room we use for bunking down – and it happens almost every night. Some nights it’s a bible study, and a double handful of people gather in a circle and learn about God. Some nights it’s a prayer meeting, and the whole church prays together. Some nights there is a complete church service, including a sermon. Every night there is singing. There is no worship team, there is no worship leader, there is no projector screen for the lyrics. There’s a set of drums on stage and sometimes someone gets behind those for accompaniment, but usually the only sound comes from our voices. There is nobody dedicated to leading the body in prayer or worship – one person will come and share, pray, sing, what have you – and then someone else will come up. I can’t speak their language very well but as best I can understand there is no order, no schedule – just a bunch of people together, meeting God where they’re at. From my history of regimented church that follows a specific order every Sunday, worship is sloppy. The people have no rhythm when they clap, and the song leaders aren’t always on key. This doesn’t stop the people of Arroyo Cano. They come almost every night to this little church, which sometimes doesn’t even have electricity, because they love God and earnestly desire a close relationship with Him. I think about all the things I do in the evening back at home, and I wonder what these people would think. I go to one church service per week – these people have three just on the weekend. Here the church is always lit up in the evenings – back in the States churches sit dark more than they’re open.
Arroyo Cano doesn’t have a Wal-Mart. They pour cement for their sidewalks by hand, and I haven’t seen a single neon light anywhere. Internet access is limited to a USB modem that piggybacks on the cell phone signal. Stores seem to be open whenever the owner feels like it, and goats and dogs share the road with motos (motorcycles) and 20-passenger vans. Barbed wire surrounds the highschool compound, and even the church doors are sealed at night with giant padlocks. This is totally unlike life back home.
BUT
Walk down the street and wave at the people relaxing in the shade, and they’ll smile and wave back. Spend the morning working with people fixing up the playground, and they’ll invite you to their house that evening for tea and dominos. Stick around after a church service and everyone in the building will shake your hand, and say “God bless you” with a smile on their face.
I could get used to worshiping like this every night. Sloppy, imprecise worship, where you’re not concerned as much with whether your neighbor is clapping to the beat as you are with praising God. Sloppy sermons, interrupted with praises and shouts as people respond in a strong way to the truth of God’s message. Sloppy church, where everyone is too excited to be in the presence of God to worry about social status or propriety. I wouldn’t mind bringing some sloppy church back home with me.
