Friday was Celestún. Saturday was Izamal. Sunday was Motúl. Today is Wal-Mart…and Monte de Olivos church, where Nancy is tutoring several young adults in English. And then there are the classes I teach...


In 1979 the lagoon at Celestún was designated as a world Biosphere Reserve. It is home to one of the largest population of flamingoes in the world, pristine mangrove stands and the Ojo de Agua (Eye of Water), a spring that gushes out of the ground to feed fresh water into the brackish lagoon.

Located on the west coast of the Yucatan Peninsula, about an hour and a half west of Merida, the town of Celetsún is a beach town, but has none of the glitzy development of some of the other towns of the peninsula such as Progresso, Cancun and the towns of the Mayan Riviera. The flamingoes are at their peak in December and May, but enough reside in the lagoon year round to make it a spectacular destination. And it is well organized.


There is one park center where tickets are purchased, and one area where boats wait to take visitors on the hour or two hour trip. The boat owners seem to take turns so there is no hassling or hustling, and the route is set for all. Since the peso has now fallen about 50% in value relative to the dollar, our trip was both a bargain and a joy. And the fish meal on the beach was the same…


Izamal is a town about an hour and a half east of Merida. It is the location of one of the oldest and largest monasteries in Latin America, one important enough to have been visited by Pope John Paul II and designated by him as a status just under that of a basilica.


The monastery and church were built on the ruins of a Mayan pyramid, one of the five that are still features of the city. The city had been abandoned by the time the Spaniards arrived, and the pyramids were in ruins—having lost some of their height and mass as locals would use the cut stones of the pyramids to build their houses. Even with these losses the largest of the pyramids is said to have the second greatest mass of any the pyramids of the Meso-America.

We visited Izamal that particular day because our host was teaching an extension class there, in a Presbyterian church that has as its back wall one of the sides of the large pyramid. I wonder if it is a plus for real estate value to describe your property as a pyramid-view property?

In any case, while he was teaching Nancy and I visited the monastery, walked around the beautiful town, and sat on the square watching the people and drinking a coke. A great way to pass a couple hours…

Motúl is about an hour east of Merida on a road slightly to the north of the road to Izamal. The occasion for our visit was an invitation by one of my students to preach and officiate at the communion service of the church he serves, one of the Presbyterian churches in the town. In the morning Nancy and I had attended worship at the downtown Presbyterian church in Merida, Divino Salvador, but most churches have their main service in the evening, which is when we went to Motul.


The church was packed, the singing was enthusiastic, and the spirit of the mixed congregation--young and old—was joyful. I have now preached three times in three weeks, and each time is a privilege and an experience. The Maya people are generally a reserved people, and it shows in their worship. But with the praise band blaring, the sound system turned up to its maximum (the only setting I have experienced) and the young people leading in singing, there is plenty of volume and enthusiasm to go around.


Carnival began on Thursday, and will continue until Tuesday. The primary impact of the celebration in this city is to bring in a crowd of tourists and turn the main boulevard into a nightly parade route and a mile long beer stall. The Catholic Church does not discourage its followers to avoid the celebrations, but does advise exercising moderation. The evangelical churches (evangelical in Latin America means all non-Catholic) urges avoidance. There is always a youth camp out of town during the Carnival season, and the message at Divino Salvador was a clear one about keeping away from the goings-on, about how friendship with the world makes a person an enemy of Christ (James 4:4).

The atmosphere of Carnival does give reason to pause and consider to what extent a believer should participate, and what it means to be in the world but not of the world. I do not believe that as believers our primary identity should be a negative one, that is what we keep away from or do not do. Yet there are clearly boundaries to recognize and activities that are inappropriate. The hard thing is to know what they are and to make a statement that is positively directed towards something better. How to do that is something each follower of Christ ought to ponder. We are challenged by Paul not to be conformed to this world but to be transformed by the renewing of our minds…(Romans 12:2) Too often we do not meet this challenge—and too often we do not even think about it. But it is at the heart of our faith and the heart of the abundant life Christ came to give to us…Perhaps we should be more intentional about living out our faith in our culture. And maybe not just at Carnival season but all year round…

Last week Nancy and I visited Yaxcopoil, a hacienda about 25 miles outside Merida. At the turn of the century the hacienda system was in full operation, providing much of the hemp the world had needed for sailing ships and continued to need for rope and material for World War I. The income from the henequen plant made enough people rich for Merida to claim the world’s highest “millionaire-per-capita” title—but it also kept many people in servitude in a way comparable to the plantation system in pre-Civil War United States. Then in 1932 the president of Mexico broke up all the haciendas, which were huge land grants, giving title of the land in parcels to individuals and communities, and the culture had to change. Some time later nylon was invented, the world stopped using hemp, and the industry died.

This particular hacienda we visited began as a cattle ranch in the 1800’s and in the time of its greatest splendor stretched for around 22,000 acres. It now consists of a large, partly decaying, main house, remnants of the old production and warehouse buildings and machinery, and a few acres around them. One of the rooms is the Maya Room, and contains artifacts found on the grounds over the years. The hacienda continued to process henequen until 1982, although the amount of production was not great. Other haciendas have been restored for tourists, but this one was just right for us. The guide who showed us around had actually worked on the hacienda while it was still operating, as had his father and, I suppose, his father’s father. He was obviously proud of the old house and eager to give us a positive impression of it—which we received.


This morning I preached at a church in the south part of the city of Merida. It was the anniversary of the church, and, along with me as guest preacher there were three invited special music groups and one soloist. One of the groups was a trio, which sang contemporary Christian music.

A second was a men’s chorus—strong and enthusiastic in its rendition of both traditional and contemporary songs. The third was a guitar duet that played traditional Yucatecan tunes with Christian words. The soloist sang beautiful contemporary works. All together there were fourteen special musical numbers…And my preaching. They had canceled the Sunday School hour expecting the service to be a bit longer than usual—and their expectations were met…


After the worship service there was a convivio , that is a small meal. This worship was my fourth since arriving here, and the fourth which included a convivio. And each menu was the same—coca-cola and corn tortillas wrapped around shredded chicken and onion. Delicious and no digestive problems…

Then this evening I preached at the church of our host, Don Bito. This service was shorter (less music, not less preaching) and did not have a convivio, which meant a stop at Subway on the way home. The spirit of the people was very good and the quality of music had vastly improved since the last time I was there, a year ago. Back then I noted that the group leading the music half way through the musical set basically abandoned all pretext of tonality in favor of volume. This time the leaders, drums, guitar and keyboard were pretty good. You could tell someone had been working with them.


It is a great privilege to share in the worship of God in these services. Nancy and I are always greeted as special people and honored in some way. I have conversations with the people, and usually end up joking with some of the little children. The old men and women are patient and the younger ones energetic. Huipil (traditional dress) and contemporary clothing is mixed, and children play on the floor. In all of it God is honored, and we are thankful that we can be a part of it.

The first week of classes is finished, and it seems to have gone well. I have found the classroom, received a list of students, figured out how to arrange the canon (PowerPoint projector), and engaged the students in both Las Epístolas Paulinas (class photos here) and Homilética.


At the seminary the weekly schedule of classes begins Monday at around 10 in the morning and concludes around noon on Thursday. After the last class of the week there is a chapel in a church adjacent to the seminary, then the students go to their campo, their place of ministry and service. Every student has at least one campo, and the professors do as well.

The campo is always a church, and while some are in the city of Merida, most are outside the city in one of the small rural Mayan villages that dot the jungles of the Yucatan. The students go to their campo and stay there, usually sleeping in a hammock in a room in the church. They arrive when they can on Thursday or Friday, and stay until the last church service is held, which is usually Sunday evening. Then the student returns to Merida, to the dorms, and begins classes Monday. Since some of the campos are as far as five hours by bus (almost all students travel by bus) this often means arriving in the village on Thursday evening and returning to the seminary in the early morning hours on Monday. Quite a schedule!

Some of the churches compensate the students a bit, but many only receive enough support from the church to pay for the bus to and from the campo. Their meals are provided by members of the church (cooked in a kitchen like that in the photo), and their ministry includes visitation, youth work, worship leading and teaching and preaching. Many of the students are in effect pastors of the churches they serve, and most of the churches are very small and have no other staff of any kind.


The professors usually serve as the pastor of one of the larger churches in the area, but that does not mean the church is large. Or that the building is expansive. Or that the compensation is generous. What it does mean is that both student and professor work hard and for little remuneration. In fact the seminary life here is one which is so demanding that I doubt many seminary students or staff in the United States would tolerate it for very long. But it is the way of life here…

Last night I heard a rustle of footsteps outside my window, then the music began. I went to the front door and there was most of the student body of the seminary—they were there to serenade me for my 65th birthday. I was very surprised and honored as they gathered around and, with two Mexican guitar accompanists, sang traditional Mexican fiesta and cumpleaño songs and shouted the usual Mexican cries of enthusiasm. When the singing was over each person came up to me, hugged or shook my hand and said a few words of blessing for my birthday. Then they went back to the dorms. Their genuine expressions of blessing and well-wishing were moving to me, while I must admit that their appearance was amusing. The weather here has not been hot since my arrival—it only reached 86 degrees yesterday and the evening was cool enough that I put on a long sleeved tshirt-but it was amusing to me that to the people here it was so cold that the singers were dressed in heavy coats, hats and scarves. As they sang they reminded me of Christmas carolers back home, and I guess the air to them felt like winter snow to us…


Such is the stuff of life here. Teaching classes, getting to know people, and sharing in life in another culture. Once again I am thankful to God for the opportunity to enrich and to be enriched—for his call to serve and the blessings it brings. Giving to others while learning to see faith through their eyes is one of the great joys of life. It is the body of Christ in its diversity and humanity, the way it was meant to be. And Nancy and I get to be a part of it!

To get to Merida, Yucatan, Mexico, I took a flight from Greensboro to Houston then on to Merida. The first leg, from Greensboro, is the longest, while the second flies over the Gulf of Mexico and takes about an hour and a half. At the airport in Houston I bumped into David Correa, one of the professors at El Seminario Presbiteriano de San Pablo, and we arranged to sit together on the flight to Merida. It was good to catch up with the doings of the people of the seminary, although some of the doings were not happy ones, and to get a bit more information on what I would be facing when I arrived.

On arrival I was met by Mark Legters, David (Bito) and Jean’s son, and, with bike in box in the back, was driven in his pickup to the Legters’ home—my home for the next 2 ½ months.


On arrival I settled into the corner room which has been set aside for my lengthy visits. The next day, Sunday, after working on some of my classes I had lunch with Antonio and Ruth, and their four month old Jonatan. The little one is healthy and happy, and just about half the weight of my four month old grandson, Jacques. It was delightful to catch up with Antonio, who had been a trainee in Shoreline, and to hear how he has been serving God since he left us—and with some of the gifts he honed while in our midst.

Sunday evening was spent working on details of my class—while watching the SuperBowl and listening to the Spanish broadcast announcers. Need I say that, despite the sad ending, it was a great game? That evening, actually early a.m. Monday, Dave and Jean arrived back from taking their daughter Debbie to the airport in Cancun, so the morning began with our breakfast together. After finishing, and after a bit more final preparation, I walked the 100 yards from the house to the seminary and met for the first time with my class.


I am teaching Las Epístolas Paulinas (The Letters of Paul) to second year students, and also Homiletica IV (Preaching IV) to the fourth year students. On meeting the class for the first time I was impressed with their maturity and eagerness. There are 12 in the Epistles class, 10 men and 2 women, and for the first time I find several students taking notes with laptops. The seminary is now wired for wireless internet, another new thing, and I have been told that it may be possible to do the second half of my class (after the Easter break) via the internet. I need to explore that option as I probably will not return for the rest of the semester since the nine weeks from now to the break is about as long as I can commit to being here.

While the economic situation world-wide has and will have an impact on this part of Mexico, what I see so far would indicate that the impact is not profound. Yesterday I went into one of the local malls to get a SIM card for my phone, and it was crowded. The parking lot was full and the stores were teeming with people, most of whom had something in hand that they had purchased. The seminary has experienced some loss of support from the United States, but it has never had what it has needed and things seem to get along. It saddens me when I hear that someone or some church has cut back on mission giving, particularly when the cut back is done in order to maintain something that is not really needed at home.

A fair amount of what we hear about Mexico in the US media has a negative slant. Particularly the impact of drugs and drug cartels on the culture. It is a sad fact of life here that there is more violence connected with drug dealing than ever before, but the Wall Street Journal last week had a very insightful comment on that phenomenon. First, it said that the root cause was the government´s courageous effort to curtail the power of the drug cartels. Second, it added that if the current rate of homicide in Mexico continues to climb it may eventually reach as high a level as that of—Louisana. Ah, the perspective that world awareness gives…

So, for the next 9 weeks my life will revolve around two classes at a seminary in Mexico. It is an investment in the future of the church here, and one which I am most grateful to be able to make. Nancy will be joining me in a couple days, and during her month here will offer English classes through Antonio´s church and one or two schools in the area. That also is an investment in the future, and one which she is most grateful to be able to make. In both cases we find satisfaction and joy in the words of Jesus which Paul quoted to the elders at Ephesus, Hay más dicha en dar que en recibir—which, of course, means It is more blessed to give than to receive… A small saying but one which could not be more true…