theGodlife.net

by Mike Thomas on Saturday, August 14, 2010 at 4:24pm

 

At 13 years old, I fell in love with Spanish and Spanish-speaking people.  But in SW Missouri back then, there were no none to my knowledge.  I was dying to meet someone from Mexico, but I didn't until I got to college.  Now, when I go back to Joplin, Missouri, there are Spanish-speakers everywhere.  I love it!

 My unpopular view is that all gringos, especially Christians, should learn to speak Spanish and reach out to them.  Maybe, in the past, we wouldn't go share the gospel with them, so God has sent them to us?  That's how I see it.  I am prejudiced, but in the way of the Kingdom of God.  They should just learn English?  Of course, English is so easy, and there are so many trying to help them learn.  And so many gringos learning Spanish because it is so easy!

 I heard a Mexican pastor speak once about his having been a poor little Mexican kid in awe of the Americans who visited his country.  These particular gringos were Christian missionaries.  Because of their help and influence, he eventually received an education, including a Ph.D.  He said, "I am not impressed by a high IQ, but I am impressed by kindness.  An IQ can only go so high and you probably can't increase it.  But there is no limit to the kindness you can show other human beings."

 While a short-term missionary in Mexico, I was able to listen to some guys who have crossed the border to work in Dallas.  Where they live, there are two options for employment:  (1) a mine where there are no safety standards, one which collapses and kills workers on a regular basis; (2) a candelia, a furnace where they make wax; remember, it's already 100 degrees in the shade.  Now does everyone want to apply for those jobs?  A lot of them get drunk and stay drunk.  Do you wonder why?

 They come to the U.S.  They leave their families behind.  They don't want to.  They come and work hard at jobs I wouldn't do.  They told me about being afraid, living on the run, being exploited, being betrayed.  I wish I could share their stories word-for-word.

 I also ran into an Army patrol squad, a major, a corporal, and 12 privates, the latter all young kids doing their military service.  They were armed to the teeth because drug lords regularly ambush them and kill them.  They were searching for illegal drugs and arms shipments.  Just for a moment, they rested in the shade while one lookout kept his gun up, finger on the trigger.

 They asked me what my group and I were doing there.  I said that we were building a home for the government school teacher.  That we had built a church and houses, drilled a well, so that locals could have a better life.

 They all nodded in a sort of approving way.  Then one asked, "What message are you preaching?"

 I thought, "Thank you, Lord!"  Talk about an invitation!  I preached the gospel to them, unhindered, and in Spanish, their heart language.  They all listened carefully, while staring at the dirt next to their feet.  When I finished, they again nodded their heads, looking at me respectfully.  One repeated in Spanish, "That's good, that's good."

 I later preached to children, whose faces are full of hope, but what hope do they have without Jesus?  And how shall they hear unless some goes to tell them?  Or unless our eyes are opened to the harvest that God has planted at our back door?  God's word says, "Welcome the stranger" and "We have entertained angels unaware."

 I'm not even going to address the politics of the situation, which may irritate some readers. 

 On several occasions in Mexico, I have preached the story of the Samaritan woman, a worthless outcast even among her own people.  Those Mexican women in the congregation knew about drawing water from a well.  They listened with stoic understanding.  Jesus treated the Samaritan woman  like buried treasure and revealed to her God's plan for world-wide worship.  She got saved, and He allowed her to bring her whole village to Him.  She was worth far more to God than to any man she had ever known. 

 Sound like a solution to the "problem?"

 OK, I'm not the "answer man."  Jesus is.