It
was Sunday evening at the Vila Baptist Church. Vicki and I were seated toward
the back of the nearly full auditorium. Each Sunday gathering is different and
often brings delightful surprises. We were eager to see what was “in store” for
us tonight.
One
of our ladies has a brother, a Catholic priest, who teaches and celebrates mass
at a diocese upstate. Back in August, he contracted viral
encephalitis, which once discovered, left him hospitalized
for a gruesome 60 days. For weeks, he teetered on the edge of life and death in
the ICU. Our church, as well as a designated prayer group, kept up-to-date, and
prayed for God to spare his life.
Three
weeks ago, Padre Lorenço (not his
real name) accompanied his sister to our Sunday evening church service. She
asked to give public testimony of seeing God heal her brother and to thank the
church for praying and encouraging her and her family during the past two
intense months of suffering. She shared her tears and laughter as she gave
details of her brother’s struggles. As she went back to her seat in the
auditorium, she said, “My brother would also like to speak to the church.”
Vicki
and I were still taking in what our sister and good friend had shared as her
brother went up front. My heart began to race and I thought, “Oh no, should I
do or say something? Should Pastor Valdir (with whom we work) step in?” My cozy
Baptist church has a Catholic priest upfront who wants to say something to our
congregation!
Some
of you know I’m a missionary’s kid. My parents came to Brazil in the late 1940’s.
In the 50’s, as a young boy in this part of Brazil, I heard stories of many Catholic
priests organizing protests against evangelical Christians. My dad was
confronted over and over by religious mobs. Eggs, tomatoes, and rocks were
thrown at him, the new believers, and missionary coworkers. I remember my dad talking
about outdoor services where military police were present to control the
situations. In the interior town of Jardim, the local priest organized a mob
that showed up at an evangelistic meeting in the town square. They threw rocks
and manure, smashed the sound system, flipped my dad’s jeep, and slashed the
canvas jeep top with knives.
Yet, on this night
three weeks ago, with a voice still feeble from his illness, Padre Lorenço said, “I have come to your
church tonight for two reasons. The first is to thank you personally for
praying for me during the past several months. I was aware of your interest in
me and my recovery. Secondly, I want each one of you to see with your own eyes the
answer to your prayers.” Then, he sat down.
Several times since then, Pastor Valdir and I
have taken Padre Lorenço and his
brother-in-law out to eat and talk. While on sick leave, he continues to attend
our Sunday services. Last week, Padre
Lorenço and I spent the day at our Retreat Center construction site. We
talked a lot. He “confessed” to me so much of his personal struggles and guilt.
Repeatedly, Romans 8 and James 2 came into our conversation.
Up until now, we had prayed earnestly
for the Padre’s physical recovery. Now
our church is praying intensely for his heart to see and understand that salvation
is in Christ alone.
So... from way back in the 50’s until
now, the Gospel preached by my Dad and many other pioneer missionaries is the
same message that has not changed. We are grateful that many people in Brazil have
believed and embraced the Gospel message! Oh that we would never question the
power of the Gospel of Jesus Christ!
