Posts Tagged ‘Peru’

Holy Communion

Posted: April 15, 2012 in Realizations
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,
12

It was the day we were leaving.  The muggy air hung heavy and our skin glistened with the sweat we had almost grown accustomed to.  We had just spent 2 weeks in Peru, living together, eating together, traveling together, walking rickety bridges together, drilling wells together, playing with children together, pulling teeth together…and just experiencing this new journey together.

The walk of faith - one of our rickety bridges that got flooded!

 

We had found out more about each other.  We had, at times, gotten on each other’s nerves.  But the common goal of being open and loving people through the vehicle of drilling wells, playing with children, or pulling teeth, had kept us united in our diversity.  We felt accomplished.  We felt satisfied.  And we felt connected – like a family.

At the end of every trip, we usually partake in a practice called “Communion.”  Communion comes from the tradition where Jesus, on the night before he died, had a final meal with His disciples.  At the meal, as they all talked and shared together, He took the bread that they were all getting ready to eat, thanked God for it, and then broke it into pieces and handed it out to His friends.  But as He broke it, He said this strange phrase:  ”Take this bread and eat it – this is my body which is broken for you…”  And I can imagine them confused and wondering what Jesus meant.  Then Jesus takes a cup of wine, and blessing it, says to His friends again, “this is my blood which is poured out for you as a sacrifice to forgive sins.  Drink this in remembrance of Me.”  And so this tradition, known as Communion, is what a lot of churches partake of.  (You can read about this tradition in Matthew 26:26-30 in the Bible)

In most churches, when they partake of Communion, it is a small wafer-type bread piece, almost smaller than a cracker.  And in some churches, for the Communion wine, it is either real wine, or grape juice, but it is a small sip from a tiny cup or a small sip from a cup that is shared.  And this service, known as Communion, is usually a symbol of taking Christ into the person, just like He said, “do this in remembrance of Me.”  And so at most Communion services, it is used as a symbol of forgiveness – taking in Christ’s “blood” to cleanse us from our sins, or partaking of His body to give us spiritual sustenance.

These practices of Communion are good reminders of what He did and still does do for us in our lives…

But what if Jesus actually literally meant what He said??

What if Jesus, when He said, “Do this in remembrance of Me” was talking about more than just eating a wafer or sipping a gulp of grape juice?  What if Jesus was saying, “Live this kind of lifestyle.  BE bread to someone, like I have been and am BREAD to you!  SACRIFICE your comfort, your selfishness, your lifestyle and pour it out for someone else.  BE a life-giving flood of love to others.  LIVE THIS IN REMEMBRANCE OF ME.”

And silly us – what if we are the ones who make it all hard and symbolic?  Did Jesus really mean for us to eat a tiny wafer and swallow a gulp of juice as a powerful reminder of His love and life?  Don’t get me wrong – these symbols can be powerful reminders to us of what He did and is doing in our lives.  However, we, as humans, are usually the ones who make things a lot more complicated then they were meant to be.  What if Jesus was talking about real life, and how we are to LIVE in a lifestyle of COMMUNION with ALL people, everywhere, because we are in COMMUNION with Him?

Now I’m not talking about a commune.  What I’m talking about is actually being the body of Christ and the blood of Christ to every person I come in contact with.  And in every miniscule detail of my life, I am then living a lifestyle of communion with Christ and with the world around me.  I become bread – whether that means listening to someone, or feeding someone, or connecting someone with an organization that can help them, etc.  I become the wine to others – whether that means forgiving others, or providing them with a safe place to just be, or to help quench their thirst, or to help carry their burdens and help them smile or laugh again.  I BE who God made me to be, in where ever I find myself to be.  And I do this because God did it for me.  I do this, I live this, I BE this because I am in COMMUNION with that God of LOVE.  And therefore I am in COMMUNION with every other sacred living being around me.  And it’s not something I fake – it’s something I am!

What if this is what it means to be in Holy Communion?  The wafer and juice are nice reminders, but what if Jesus was talking about something entirely more radical and real?  What would it look like if we lived this kind of love in every part of our lives?  What if we took on His challenge and lived a lifestyle of “Do this in remembrance of Me” in every situation we encountered.  What if we actually became LOVE with skin on?

So there we are sitting there, at our breakfast table, eating our final meal in Peru.  And all these thoughts are racing through my head.  I smile as I hear all our laughter and chit-chatting around the table.  It’s a beautiful moment.  Because in that moment, we were in Communion.  For the past 2 weeks we had been living Communion.  For the past 2 weeks we had been partaking in the lifestyle of love and selflessness and unity in the midst of diversity.  We had all had the common goal of helping others, which had then drawn us together in a tighter bond.  We had learned from our Peruvian brothers and sisters what a community looks like – how we all help each other because we all are lacking in one way or another, and perhaps the person next to me is holding the link to what I am in need of, and visa-versa.  They had shown us that we are stronger together than we are alone. We were experiencing Holy Communion.

And so, as we finished eating our meal, we all got our water bottles together and filled them with water.  Water had been the goal that connected us over this trip.  I explained to them that in this Communion Service there would be no bread, no wafer – because we had been experiencing the Bread for the past 2 weeks.  We had been living it, and partaking of the body day-in-and-day-out.  We had been living Communion.  But we were going to partake of a drink of water – water to symbolize life, connection with God and connection with others.  And after we drank as much as we wanted from our bottle, we would pour out the rest of our water on the ground, slowly, as a prayer, thinking of all the faces, names and new friends we had acquired in our time here in Peru.  As the water would pour into the ground, it was our prayer that God would continue to bless our new friends with life, sustenance, joy, and peace.  This was our last Communion Service in Peru.

As we packed up our bags and put away our tents, and later that day as we loaded into the bus for the last time, and finally into the plane to fly back home, it occurred to me:  perhaps we make the teachings of Jesus, and the teachings of LOVE much more complicated than they were meant to be.  Perhaps we miss out on the powerful concept of living a life of Communion because we are only looking at a wafer and a drop of grape juice.

The Wealth of Water

Posted: April 11, 2012 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , ,
1

The day was already sticky and hot, and it wasn’t even 9am yet.  We slathered on the sunscreen, mixing it on our already-sweaty arms and legs.  Today was the day of the first well-dig, and we were ready to get it on.  What followed in the coming days was a beautiful dance of digging, drilling, pumping and sealing.  But today would be our first water-well out of 5 that we would have the honor of bringing to families and neighborhoods.

As we huddled around the heavy-packed sod we were about to tear up, there was something mysterious and magical that hung in the air.  This element, water, is something that connects us all – to all life.  Water is something that is so basic, yet in some parts of the world so precious because it cannot be just turned on with a switch.  Many people are forced to labor and sacrifice time and energy to provide this very basic, life-giving source by carrying it for miles to their families or villages.  And here we were, standing on this holy ground that would soon become a source of life and thrival in a few hours.  The moment felt holy, because under our feet was the stuff that held the precious necessity that connects us all – H2O.

We gathered around for a moment and offered this hallowed ground to God, as well as our sweat, muscles and minds.  The humble honor of participating in such a gift was astounding.  After our pause, we jumped in and began to dig…and dig and dig.

It’s very interesting the steps that are involved in drilling a well by hand.  They are as follows:

- Dig the overflow “tank” – about 4 feet deep.

- Pat down the inner walls of the overflow tank – most of the dirt is clay-like and so it makes for a perfect natural tank

Carrying water from the river for the overflow tank

- Pour river or pond water (whatever is available close by)  into the overflow tank and fill it up, as well as a large trash-can-sized container with extra water.

- Start up the generator that pumps the river water into the drill.  (the drill consists of a drill-tip that you connect the other piping to, and then you connect the water pump to the piping, which then runs down through the piping and jets out through the drill tip.)

All the pieces in play for a well

- Connect all the drill pieces, and begin to drill the well, turning it by hand with two monkey wrenches.  This is a tough job and different participants in the well-drilling have to rotate every 10 minutes.

- As the water level may lower, the bucket-brigade continues to fill up the overflow tank.

- As the drill gets deeper, you add more pipe

- Keep adding pipe until you hit the fresh, clean water well in the earth.  (You can tell when you’ve hit the fresh water because of the minerals that will come out with the water.)

- Flush out the drill hole, and add the pvc pipe

Gabriel flushes out the new well

- Flush out the dirty pump water.

- Put on the top of the pump and WALA!  You have a fresh water well!

The first well we drilled at San Andreas village

The well we did inside this family's house

A family with their well all finished and the crew

This woman is also getting a new house

Two of the girls that got a well

It was pretty amazing to be able to drill by hand water from the earth, and to help provide that basic human need to our Peruvian brothers and sisters.  It was humbling for me to partake in the beauty of that labor.  I thought of my own experience, and how easy it is to get water, and how I don’t treat it with the sacredness it deserves.  You see, water unites all of life.  They say that 70% of the human body consists of water.  They also say that 77-78% of the human brain is water.  Blood is 55% Plasma, and plasma is about 90-92% water, which makes blood about 50% water.  Water unites us, just as air unites us…just as love, laughter, and life unites us.

Since getting back to the States and watching my flushing toilet; and seeing the miracle of my washing machine; and being able to draw a hot bubble bath with the turn of a spigot, or pour out a glass of clear water from my faucets that exist in several rooms in my house, I am humbled.  What makes me so blessed to have the luxury of this basic necessity of water literally at my fingertips?  Why doesn’t the whole world have this luxury?  We are all deserving of this blessing – because we are all partly made of water, and so water unites us.  But then once again, I stop and think:  most of us are unaware of the luxuries we possess.  We cannot fully understand it’s weight until we have experienced life without it…and so, who is truly more wealthy?  Those of us who have all these conveniences and grumble, complain and wrestle with feeling entitled and “needing” more; or those who have labored for the right to have water – who have carried it for miles and have shared it with their thirsty friends and family – and who finally get a well in their home or neighborhood and truly feel the luxury of the water that now comes forth with just a turn of the switch!  They celebrate every mouthful on their parched lips because they know the true meaning of the wealth of this basic, life-giving necessity!  May we all remember that we are treading on holy ground all the time, and the necessities of this life are what unite us…and this is what makes life and community and basic human rights truly holy.

A Different Kind of Poverty – Interlude

Posted: April 2, 2012 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,
2

My soul feels restless today.  We’ve been back from Peru now for 4 days, yet it feels longer.  We got back and hit the ground running – returning to work, catching up on paying bills, checking emails, doing laundry, going grocery shopping…life as usual.  I finally have a day off – first one in over 2 weeks – and I feel restless.

Dreamt last night about Peru – I could hear the jungle sounds in my sleep, and woke up thinking I would be inside my tent – only to find me inside my comfortable bed, in my comfortable house, with the clock ticking and crickets singing outside.  And it was weird – I felt a tiny bit of disappointment. I should feel grateful and happy to be home – and I do – but I also feel restless, and this restlessness is deep inside my soul.  And it’s hard to put a finger on exactly what it is…but I shall attempt.

It’s as if the two worlds have collided, which is to be understood, and I am in the middle, holding one in one hand, and the other in the other hand.  I am the link, and I am feeling the tension of both drawing at me, questioning my identity and value, whispering at me – challenging me with the question of who am I in light of both worlds?  Like the tension that arises when a storm suddenly cascades upon the reality of a sunny day, I stand in the middle of this tension.

A storm coming on the Amazon while we were in Peru

This tension all started the moment we got back, but in little ways:  finishing my grading, jumping right back into work, interacting on Facebook and email with friends, playing Angry Birds, doing laundry, prepping for work.  All the little “normal things” that are the day-to-day routines of “normal life”, but it all happened so fast – as if two alternate universes collided in a matter of hours, and the normalcy of both at first seemed ok, but the more they both existed at the same time, it began to rip a hole in the universe of my soul.  The chasm is widening and calling out to me, haunting me with questions such as:

Who are you and what will you do with this experience?

What world do you belong to?

How will you become this new reality of both worlds – how will you make room for the collision to exist?

How will this enhance the journey you are on?

How will you be true to yourself?

You feel you need to change? No need to change – let it go!

These questions surprise me – I travel a lot… I haven’t felt this restlessness in a long time.  It doesn’t happen every time I travel.  Why now?  Why this time around?  Or maybe I do feel it every time?  Maybe it does call out to me but I drawn it out in the ways I have been attempting to this time: playing silly games such as Angry Birds, exercising, checking Facebook every hour, cleaning, working, planning, listening to music or catching up on TV…and the list could go on.  Yet with feeding myself this dose of activity since getting back, I’ve become more and more restless, and with it, more and more unhappy – thus widening the gap between the world I left 2 weeks ago, and the world I’ve returned to.

After living simply with spending 2 weeks in a tent, listening to the sound of the jungle at night, laughing with and loving on children who have nothing, drilling wells for people who have no water and had to haul it literally for miles, and being cut off from email and tv and Facebook…and then suddenly plunging right back into this world of activity – it makes perfect sense that I feel this culture shock on a soul level.

So what to do?  How do I process this “culture shock?”  A side of me feels silly, like it’s stupid that I feel this way – “C’mon Krystalynn, You’re a professional.  You do this all the time!  Are you really that weak?? Why are you listening to your soul?  You’re thinking way too hard about this!  Maybe you’re just emotional and tired.  Let it go!  You had 2 weeks, now you’re back.  You deserve this life here and now. ”  It’s the cynic that lives in my head…Identifying this cynic feels liberating.  And so, my way of giving my inner cynic the finger?  I will listen to my soul.  I will let my soul feel the tension of both worlds colliding.  I will provide myself with space and hush and safety to process this beautiful glimpse of awakening in my soul.  I choose to let the kingdom make itself manifest within me – and I will stop fighting it.  As the Switchfoot song puts it, this is a Beautiful Letdown.

So how to make both worlds connect?  I’m gonna go process this question now – I will give my soul permission to feel and to question and to mourn…and I feel relief and peace with the honesty I am showing myself and I’m excited for the outcome.  One thing is for sure – I feel like I am unmasking the poverty of my materialism and unveiling the ingredients of the wealth of what it means to live kingdom moments that liberate the soul.

Here’s the song “Beautiful Letdown” by Switchfoot:

A Different Kind of Poverty – Part 1

Posted: March 29, 2012 in Ravings & Realizations
Tags: , , , , , ,
2

As soon as we made our way outside you could tell it was a different place.  The hot, humid air was immediately sticky on our skin, and the smell of exhaust from all the motor cars hung lightly on the air.  We had made it.  We grabbed our luggage, and stuffed it in the back of a truck, and made our way out to the Amazon River.  After a brief stop at the Belen Market, we headed out with all our baggage to a little village on the Amazon River.  The adventure had begun!  I will be recounting some of my favorite moments from the trip to Peru that I have just arrived back from today.  18 of us – 12 students and 6 adults – went to Peru for the past 2 weeks.  These are some of our stories…

On a jungle trek outside the village San Andreas

As we landed at the bridge of San Andreas, a small village of Bora Tribe people on the Amazon river, it began to clearly sink in:  this was the real deal.  This was going to be a rich and satisfying experience.  The wealth of what met my eyes felt like water to a parched throat.  I heard a pure, peaceful serenity that hung heavy with the sounds of the wild jungle – bird noises I had never heard; cicada bug; chickens, and the sound of children playing in the wild outdoors.  It was a small village, with houses that had thatched roof, and a few that had rusted tin.  We made our way to where we would pitch our tents and began to set up camp.

Part of San Andreas

After not showering for 2 days, we were ready for a good clean bath of some sort.  I asked where the showers were and the woman in charge of the village looked at me like I was crazy for even asking and replied, “the river,” as if, duh, I was being silly.  So, for the first time in my life, I was going to “shower” in the Amazon River!  So I got the girls and the staff ladies together and asked if they wanted to join me…but where to go?  My American mind raced with objections and tried to come up with more “sanitary” options, but at the same time I was angry at that side of me and wanted to prove my inner wimp – that side of my comfortable, sterile selfishness that sometimes whines and groans -  that it was wrong and to shut up already!  And so the challenge was on!

As we were finishing getting our tents set up, a little village girl approached me with a small green parrot.  She smiled, and in her face I could see a young, mighty warrior.  Her eyes shone with a deep wildness that was kind and adventurous.  I smiled back and began to speak with her, using my highschool spanish skills that had laid dormant for years.  I felt drawn to her right away.  I introduced myself, and then asked her “su nombre?” (“your name?”).  And that was the start of a great friendship – Her name was Mierta, and the bird’s name was Loleta.  She gave it to me to hold, and I put my finger out, and Loleta climbed on board.  She laughed as I began talking to the bird, and I could feel my soul breathing deeply as her wild kindness warmed my heart.

Mierta with Loleta

As all us ladies got our “shower stuff” and began to head out to look for the perfect, private bathing spot, Mierta came out to greet us again.  One of our students spoke spanish, so I asked her to ask Mierta where the best place to bathe would be?  Mierta began to talk a lot, like any 9-year-old will do, and so I asked our student to see if she would take us with her and show us in person?  She quickly agreed, and off we went, following our new friend through her village.  She stopped along the way and picked something off a tree and opened it up – it was some awesome tasting fruit.  She gave us a handful of it, and talked away.  I asked my student what she was saying, and she was talking about how she caught her bird, Loleta, a few months ago in the jungle…like how cool is that??  Finally we arrived at what looked like a pond, but with plenty of privacy.  She said it was good for bathing, but we could smell feces.  So we asked her if there was another spot.  She quickly nodded and boldly led us to what would become our bathing area.

Walking to our bathing spot

We showed up to another clearing in the small tributary-creek that meandered through the village.  There were a few huts here and there, but as we inched down to the water, there was a nice clearing that had a pool-type area with a tiny current going through.  She walked right in the water and turned around as if to say, “C’mon! What are you waiting for?”  Once again that spark and wildness in her eyes was so beautiful and intense and alive.  So we looked at each other, and undressed as much as we dared, and stepped into the water.

The water was SO refreshing!  It was cool and a few of us were caught off-guard by the slope of the ground beneath the water’s surface as we slipped on the mud.    Screams of delight filled the air as we all found ourselves bathing like most of the world does: a bunch of women, some younger, some older, wearing our tanktops and shorts, with Mierta splashing us.  I had brought my bar soap and washclothe, and we all shared the soap, laughing, rinsing, and delighting in the refreshing feel of cool water on a hot humid day, and the result being clean skin.  In a moment we became one with the fact that we could bathe in the river – and that it actually was a lot of fun, not to mention bonding.  We named our bathing spot at that moment our “Amazon Spa – by Mierta”.  We dried off and sloshed back to camp in our damp shorts and tank-top, with Mierta laughing along-side us.  And a bit of her wild wonder, daring spirit, and kind fierceness had already rubbed off on us.  We felt like we had experienced a baptism from our spoiled, “blessed” lifestyle of “comfort” and had awakened to what it means to have community, and how necessity draws us all to be awakened to a true happiness that materialism could never afford.

Amazon Spa by Mierta

I began to feel that inner calling reminding me of what it means to truly live.  In that moment of bathing, a kingdom moment occurred – a sort of baptism – a reminder that perhaps those who are wealthy in materialistic things, or those who have all the creature-comforts one could ask for – perhaps they, or should I say we, are the ones who are living in poverty?  And that our friends who are living out in the huts on the Amazon River and in other places around the world –  who survive off of the land and catch pets in the jungle and use a generator for electricity and who bathe in their natural Amazon Spa – those who understand that true fortune lies in community and love and taking care of each other no matter what – these are the ones who are truly wealthy!  This is the treasure we should invest in…

Mierta and I later on in the week