Discussion with Maria

Half a dozen Crescent Hill folks interested in Guatemala mission gathered for lunch at Hillbilly Tea Thursday, to talk with Maria Arroyo about some issues associated with relationships among Crescent Hill church, the EstoreñoPresbytery, and the national church in Guatemala. The group agreed that Peter would contact members of the presbytery ‘s partnership committee and ask the presbytery to write a letter to the IENPG inquiring about the status of the land the church apparently owns where the families of the Hurricane Mitch Panzos community live (which the families would like to subdivide among them), and to copy Crescent Hill. Maria will also write Presbyterian Disaster Assistance (PDA), which apparently generated the money that was used to buy the land in the aftermath of the hurricane, to make a similar inquiry. Carlos and the presbytery may check in with each other about the letter if need be.

The group also had a wide-ranging discussion about theological education efforts, particularly for Q’eqchi’ pastors and congregational leaders. The group told Maria about the new training initiative in Estoreño and she pointed out the challenge of having the instruction based in Q’eqchi’. She said there was also an ongoing effort in Coban, at the Nazarene seminary there, which was in Q’eqchi’. She endorsed what Estoreño was doing – with needed help from the IENPG and the Presbyterian seminary in Guatemala – and endorsed Crescent Hill continuing to modestly financially support that effort (like the $400 the presbytery has asked for for food for the pastors and so on during two fall sessions). But Maria and the group agreed that Crescent Hill folks might make sure the Estoreño folks know about the Coban initiative and that eventually some Estoreño folks might participate in that too. Discussions about possible future release of the frozen Walton funds, which are earmarked partly for Q’eqchi’ education, are ongoing.

Maria also said that Crescent Hill need not “tithe” 5% for each project-based donation the church makes to the presbytery, but might periodically send $50 or $100 to the PC(USA) to send on to the IENPG, as a way to support the national church of which Estoreño Presbytery is part.

-Perry

Amy's great picture display

Hillbilly haven

Folks interested in the Guatemala partnership are going to talk with Maria Arroyo at 12 noon this Thursday, August 23, at Hillbilly Tea across 1st Street from White Castle. We’ll get together for less than an hour to follow up with our discussion with Maria a couple of years back, talking about relations between the IENPG, Guatemalan presbyteries, the PC(USA), and us, particularly as it relates to the possible Panzos land distribution and, to a lesser extent, the 5% IEPNG tithe, various theological education options, and the Walton funds.
-Perry

Visit view

Service slides

Ginny's message

Having never been to Guatemala I really did not know what to expect. And during one of our planning session for our upcoming trip Doug told us to “think different”—different smells, different sights, different sounds—different. That was good advice—I was not used to the smell of burning trash especially when rubber was being burned too—a clearly toxic smell. I was not used to being woken up by crowing roosters and grunting pigs. I was not used to seeing chickens, roosters, pigs and dogs running free to scrounge for whatever food they could find. And I was not used to seeing such poverty—many streets simply made of dirt, sparse food, houses put together out of wood and metal, limited medical care and little access to clean water. This made my heart ache.

But in the midst of this different I saw another different, I saw children full of love—who were always welcomed by their parents and other loving adults no matter what was going on—worship, a meeting, a conversation or a meal. I did not see any parents yelling or scolding their children. In fact when we did some writing, drawing and even skits, the children were included just like everyone else. In one workshop when we were acting out bible stories that describe qualities of good leadership in the Bible, one group did the story of the lost sheep and a little boy was the lost sheep tucked away in the middle of a group of adults—only to be found and lifted up and hugged. I saw children who felt loved, included and cared for and families who were so proud of each other. That warned my heart.

I also saw women step into their roles as leaders in the body of Christ. We did a Women’s Workshop and we discussed the fact that each one of us is given gifts by God and when we use them we serve the world through the body of Christ and that makes us feel good. Well, after discussing this idea we sculpted our idea with clay—for example, one woman sculpted an ear because she likes to listen to people, one person a mouth because she likes to talk, one woman a broom because she likes to sweep, and one woman a microphone because she likes to go up front and sing in church. After exploring all of our gifts we talked about how we need to use these gifts because they serve God. When we finished some women heard there was going to be a workshop the next day for the church leader and when asked by one woman who it was for, we said, “church elders, deacons, pastors and anyone else in a leadership position.’ And to that the woman replied, “That would be all of us, all of the women”—and she was right and many came.

And during our last few minutes with our brothers and sisters in El Estor we sang “Unidos” together, and for one of the first times in my life I was speechless and filled to the brim with gratitude for such devoted disciples of Jesus Christ. So I must say that I have known God is everyone intellectually, but there was a part of me that thought I could being some type of knowledge or help to the folks in El Estor, maybe I knew just a little more, but what happened and has happened to many unsuspecting folks through the years, is I discovered that God was not only alive and well there, but that God was so very present that I was keenly aware of standing on Holy Ground.

Stephanie's message

I don’t know about you, but I remember summer family reunions. My family would all pile into a car and drive somewhere far away, West Virginia or Southern Ohio. There would be people there who my mom or dad would try to explain our kinship with. Eventually my eyes would glaze over as someone tried to explain that Rebecca was my cousin because her dad was the son of my dad’s father’s sister or some other complicated relationship. I would hear the story of how my dad and her dad would spend hours hiding up in the trees in the backyard so they wouldn’t have to play with the girl cousins. All I would hear was cousin and was satisfied that we were family. Somewhere there was a common progenitor.

As I’ve gotten older I look back fondly on these family reunions. As the older generations of my life pass away, these get-togethers become even more important to me. It becomes important to find out about the thirteen days that cousin Rebecca went without electricity after that summer storm. It becomes essential to see Roger’s seven children and multitude of grandchildren. Eventually I turn to Vincent and I start to explain this is your cousin; her dad is the son of my dad’s father’s sister. I would explain Roger used to baby sit me and one time fed me a box of chocolate cake mix because he didn’t know how to cook. I nudge Vincent in the ribs when his eyes glaze over, but I know he knows we’re family.

This was my third trip to Guatemala, but only my second visit to the Lake Izabal region. My first trip was a blur with lots of activity. My memories were of long bus rides, smiling faces, heat, making cement floors, doing math in the dirt with little girls, water bottles, heat, a beautiful lake, accepting people, and (did I mention?) heat. In December, our church was able to bring three members of our partner presbytery to Louisville. Perry, Vincent, and I hosted Ramiro. In my bad Spanish, Vincent’s worse Spanish, and Perry’s continued questions in Spanish we learned about Ramiro’s family and life in El Estor. On this return trip I looked forward to seeing Ramiro’s family, smiling faces, a beautiful lake, and accepting people. I knew to expect water bottles, long bus rides, and heat.

What I didn’t expect was the overwhelming feeling of family. It was a family reunion. Somehow these people weren’t just our partners. I had prayed for these people. I had memories of these people and this place. I remembered their faces. I knew my way from Arca de Noe church to the hotel. Most importantly of all, I knew they had prayed for my church, had memories of our visits, remembered some of the members of our group’s faces, and, as I pleasantly learned after our first night in El Estor, those little girls I did math in the dirt with, they remembered my name. They remembered me. We were family.

Don’t get me wrong. I think of Crescent Hill Presbyterian as my church home, but there is something about traveling so far away, not very often, and being accepted. I see Crescent Hill members pretty often. You all are kind of like immediate family. The kind you see all the time and sometimes take for granted. Going to El Estor I got to see my extended family. The kind you have to explain to your child how you’re related.

Exactly like other family reunions, hugs were given freely, smiles and nods were exchanged across the room, children born since our last visit or too young to remember peeked from behind mothers’ skirts. You can also ask our youth, Freddy was still there ready to throw the Frisbee or play soccer. This was just the same as those long trips to West Virginia except soccer w,uld be replaced by softball and cousin Freddy would probably be named Mike.

This trip served many purposes. We discussed our partnership. We visited several churches we had not seen before. We held several workshops. We played frisbee and soccer. But, most importantly. it reminded me that we are family. Crescent Hill and Presbyteriano de Izabal are my church family. We have a common progenitor. We are all part of God’s family.