Where Two or Three Are Gathered

During my crazy cab ride home from the airport over five weeks ago, Jose said that most people here are Catholic and that there was a really cool church outside of Jinotepe where the mass was really energetic and the priests danced. The idea appealed to me immediately - why not? - but we hadn't really gotten a chance to go until this weekend. I'm so glad we did!

Jose's dad pulled up in a red pickup at five to ten yesterday morning and we jumped in the back. Brianne and I had been worrying about what to wear - her only pants are jeans and I don't even have pants here - but we shouldn't have. While Jose's mom was well made up and wearing a shiny gold blouse, everyone was wearing jeans.

It sounds silly, but even the journey to church was an experience! The road we were planning to take was closed, so we took a very roundabout route through the jungle on a dirt road. I'm really going to miss riding in the back of pickup trucks, to be honest. There's something about speeding down that crazy road with half a dozen people we picked up on the way and getting hit in the face with tropical plants that makes me feel... free.

Once we got to the church - basically a giant outdoor picnic shelter - the mass was already in full swing. There were at least a hundred people dancing and singing to marimba and guitar music. As soon as we hopped out of the truck, Jose's mom took us by the hands and dragged us into the mob, where she jumped, sang, shouted, translated and danced. It was wild! We were right beside a group of youth in grey polos who were eager to show us their dance moves.

After at least 15 minutes, of marimba fiesta, we pulled pup some of the plastic patio chairs and listened as  one of the priests started things off by announcing some birthdays. A particularly cute altar server - the littles one - even got to stand up shyly in front of everyone as they clapped for him. This was followed by congratulatory applause for Jose's parents' wedding anniversary, as well as a shout-out to Brianne, John and me.

We were given a bulletin to follow along with, so the mass wasn't too foreign for the sitting-down part. there were a reading that seemed vaguely familiar, and one I knew about Jesus walking on water. The sermon/homily, however, wasn't quite like anything I've seen before, either in Catholic churches or United ones. The priest who spoke spoke with so much energy! Jose and his mom translated for John and Brianne, but I understood a lot even though I didn't have a Nica interpreter in my ear. A lot of it was about fear and love - but there was a lot of laughter, too! The father said that people without fear are "Loco. Loco! LOCO!" and something about a girl needing to use butter to get her shorts on. (Not a girl there. An imaginary one. There was a lesson involved.) He sang a made-up song and danced, too. At one point, he had the group chanting "Last hour! Last hour! Last hour!" to wake us up and encourage us to keep listening until the end. I was all, ears, though - it was so cool!

I'll admit that I was getting a little tired by the time communion rolled around, especially because Jose and I had to wait it out. (I'm not Catholic and his son was born out of wedlock.) Still, I enjoyed the time I spent waiting in the sun, listening to the upbeat communion music while children played all over the place. It really made me think of "Where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there." That picnic shelter at the end of the muddy road with the electric guitars and families in flip-flops had one of the most meaningful services I've ever been to. My moment of reflection didn't last long, though, because afterwards, the party started in earnest.

The Nicaraguans' innate dancing ability has been cause for frustration and wonder for some time now, but the mystery has finally been solved: they learn at church. Toddlers, teenagers, seniors - everybody danced! Hip-shaking and all! A couple of songs in, the priests descended into what could almost be described as a mosh pit to have their own moments in the spotlight. The energy was just really incredible: smiles all around, super catchy hymns and killer dance moves. All of the hymns had actions that we picked up quickly from the people around us; because some of them involved hugging, rib-poking and trying to stomp on peoples' feet, I felt a sense of community preeeeetty quickly. I think that if church were like this at home, a lot more people would go!