Church-hopping in Mexico

Continued from "The Tale of Two Churches and a feeding station" (see April 4th post).

Easter Sunday, March 23 found us in Church #4 where our lifelong friends Reg (standing in the doorway) and Tish Loeppky attend whenever they are away from their temporary home in Peach Land, B.C. I found Iglesia Cristiana Congregational to be a good example of "ancient-future" worship. The service reminded me of the church I attended as a child as we were singing "Christ Arose," "Christ the Lord, Is Risen Today," and "Victory in Jesus" . . . all a bit slow for my taste, but so nostalgic it didn't matter. Then they added a favourite contemporary Easter song of mine: "You Are My King." The pastor had an excellent message and the traditional liturgy was almost identical to what we're used to at Trinity Church where the creeds have been resurrected and where the prayers and expressions of worship seem to be more consistent with the rest of Christendom. But, the big plus was their youth group.

The Spanish congregation gathers at 10:30 a.m. As well, these young people joined us for the English service at 8:30 a.m. They performed every Friday night in March (except Good Friday) to raise funds for their youth group. We went to hear them twice. The two guys in the front row are the sons of the music director.

This is Church #2 mentioned in the April 4th post. They were a friendly people and we went there a lot since they offered tourists free internet access . . . plus you didn't even need to darken the door in order to check the temperature! They also gave visiting pastors a copy of The Dumb Gringo, a book written by their pastor, Fred C. Collom, in which he tells how not to do missions. While serving the Mexican people for almost 30 years, he has helped to plant 18 churches.

The dark side of Mexico

this photo by Glenn Doerksen

The sun is setting in Mazatlan but the night is still young. It's only 6:15 p.m.

Later in the evening we went to a fancy hotel to see the Fiesta Mexicana. It was over by 10. Our villa was less than a block away from this idyllic bit of paradise but we didn't go straight home. This was Semana Santa, the time to celebrate the end of Lent by staying up all night to dance and play. One writer calls it "Easter madness." Live groups were playing everywhere and we walked around to see a few of them. You might say the crescendo was very much the opposite of diminuendo. The last time this happened in March was in 1913 and since it won't happen again until 2228 - 220 years from now, we thought it was safe to book for next year.

Every night the crowds seemed to be moving closer and closer to our door. Before going to bed I stepped outside to see just how close and . . . there they were . . . sitting right on our step. And there were ten of them. But these were not the revelers; they were the police, getting ready to keep the noise down to a dull roar. One of them spoke English and when he translated my request to take their picture, they all seemed quite pleased.

Every night the noise continued until around 6 a.m. The noisiest morning of all was the result of one lone truck radio playing at full blast - right under our window! Darlene had better luck the next day and found about three live bands going at full throttle. It was 6:30 a.m.

I'm convinced that everyone plays a musical instrument in Mexico.

Cavorting on a catamaran

Rather than risking our lives on a surf board, four of us opted to take this catamaran. The Tahitians call them war canoes. In Newfoundland they are used as heavy duty sleds. Go figure - we had snow in Calgary this morning). During our March vacation in Mexico, we chopped our way across the bay to Deer Island. Talk about a fun ride.

Most of the time we just basked in the sun. Shhhhh . . . . Darlene is planning her next trip.

She has found a nice place to do her homework, just outside the Hotel Playa Mazatlan, a block away from the villa where we stayed.

It gets a bit crowded further down the beach just behind Joey's Oyster Bar.

Welcome to our Mexican villa

We've just returned from a warm, snowless month in Mazatlan. Here's a peek through our bedroom window at Villa Palermo.

Canapes for two beside the pool . . .

and the multi-purpose palapa complete with electrical outlet . . . and shade.

The ocean was only a block away.

The tale of two churches and a feeding station

Truth be told, we visited four churches in Mazatlan. Church #1 actually visited us. Our first full day in "the land of the deer" was a Sunday so we had to visit the market. Darlene loves the market, plus we have to eat. Lo and behold - there was a church service going on right there in one of the main aisles. Wonderful! The Bread of life being offered right there next to the vegetables and meats - something you might have seen in Bible times.

Church #2 was same old, same old - inside a building and away from the market place. The songs were upbeat and the message was about "Life's Storms and God's Imperfect People." It would have encouraged anyone and it reminded me of the sermons I hear in my home church. But it was the announcements that really got my attention. We were informed about feeding the children and planting other churches and how we could help. Darlene and I decided to join the volunteers the following Saturday.

After making the sandwiches, we boarded this bus and traveled out to Dona Chinita, a run-down colonia (suburb) where squatters have been granted tiny parcels of land for building their homes. After their first visit to Mexico, the couple you see leading the singing decided to come back to work among these people and have moved right into their community.

We passed many homes just like this one. Some have livestock in their small yards. Actually, these homes look like palaces compared to the hovels where they once eked out an existence.

Because of opposition from various groups it is next to impossible to get a permit for a church building. So they call this a "feeding station." They also meet on Saturday instead of Sunday to avoid more conflict. What you see in the background is the first stage of a new "church" building. It consists of a 50' x 70' slab of concrete covered over by a metal roof. As the congregation grows, the walls will eventually go up and it will gradually take shape.

For me, this is a truer picture of the church in Dona Chonita. Darlene has her arm around an older girl. When she was standing between us, she wanted to practice her English. Looking up at us she asked, very slowly, "How . . . are . . . you?" The only way I was able to answer her was with a smile. I hope she knew how happy I was to make her a sandwich.

To read about Church #4, see "Church hopping in Mexico" (April 7th post)