Church and Water Heaters
Saturday morning, I walked around my neighborhood taking
pictures of various things to use in this week’s blogs. It was cold and it was windy. I was out of the house from 9:00 till
probably around 1:00, maybe later. I
didn’t notice right away, but my water heater stopped working. I went through my day writing blogs,
cooking, washing dishes, and cleaning the house a little, not knowing what
happened. Around 9:00, I was washing
dinner dishes and noticed the water was not getting hot.
It was still cold outside.
In Bolivia, I have never seen indoor heating. It doesn’t get cold enough for it. Maybe a few days this time a year it is cold,
but is only in the 50s. But still, that
is an uncomfortable shower.
I tried reading the instructions, but something I was not
doing right. I gave up after an hour and
called my landlady. It was already
10:00, so I knew I would not get anything done tonight. She asked if I was going to church on Sunday
and I said yes. So she promised to send
him after.
I think I said before that there are two church services on
Sunday mornings, around 8:00 and 10:00. Today
I recognized some songs the praise team sang before. One is about having a fiesta, singing and
celebrating before the Lord. It makes
sense. If you love God more than the
world, why shouldn’t you celebrate? Why
should your worship be bland and boring?
I don’t want to step on any toes, but maybe this is why our churches are
turning off the young people. At Berea Church,
easily half are between 15 and 25. This
morning I was surrounded by young men; five in front and three on the
side. All were singing and
worshipping. This church is raising men
to lead.
Well, during the worship service, my landlady called me. I turned off the ringer, but kept feeling it
buzz. I typed a message that I was at
church. She messaged back that the water
heater man could only come this morning.
If not, it might be Tuesday until he came. So I debated what to do and decided that I
needed to go home.
I rushed home, but from the church to my house is 20 minutes
by taxi. I was worried I would be late,
but kept telling myself that Bolivian time is different from American
time. If he says 11:00, he will be there
at 11:15 or later.
So I was late, but the water heater man was later. The first time he came by two weeks ago, he
was in and out in two minutes. Today it
took him longer. It was yesterday’s wind
that blew out the pilot. The wind from
an exhaust tube was still keeping it from staying lit. He said that might happen every time we have
a surazo (cold south wind from the Antarctic).
Before he left, I had him teach me how to get it going again. At 8:45 pm, it is still working. Hopefully he won’t’ have to come back.
So I didn’t have enough church this week. Berea Church is on the edge of town and I am
in the middle. It takes about 20+
minutes to get there by taxi and longer by micro. But I wanted to be there tonight. And I am so glad I went.
The evening service was worship and prayer. Basically it was 45 minutes of singing, 20
minutes of a young lady teaching from Ephesians 3, and 20 minutes of prayer.
When this group sings, they take literally these verses from
2 Samuel 6 to heart. In verses 14 and 15
it says, “David was dancing before the Lord with all his might, while he and
all Israel were bringing up the Ark of the Lord with shouts and the sound of
instruments.” The younger members, and a
few of the older ones, get into the worship with shouting, dancing, jumping,
always with smiles of joy on their faces.
In one song, so many of the young men and women were jumping so high and
hard that you could feel the floor shaking (no Mom, it wasn’t an
earthquake). During prayer time,
two-thirds of the church was on their face before the altar. I haven’t been in a prayer service like that
in so many years. The ones who weren’t
on their faces, were old people like me, a few children, and some mom’s with
babies.
Now if you are inclined to say that is not what you want out
of your church, or maybe that it embarrasses you or you think it not dignified enough
for church, I know several dozen young men and women that would respond like
David did in that same chapter, “I will celebrate (in Spanish it translates as
dance) before the Lord. I will become even more undignified than this, and I
will be humiliated in my own eyes.”
If for no other reason, this is why I am glad to be back in
Bolivia.
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