My final thoughts are entirely wrapped up with our final night in Brazil. On Wednesday I talked about walking thru the Caju favella with Fabio and Lia. Fabio and Lia pastor the Igreja Batista Vida church in Caju. When Mike first visited four years ago, it was a very small church within the favella. A favella run by drug traffickers. The church is now housed in a warehouse by the shipping yards, walking distance to the favella. To stand on the street you’d never know it was a church, you’d never know the worship that happens inside. It is an old, run down, non-descript warehouse. To one side is a simple single door leading to 3 flights of stairs. The stairs open up to a large open warehouse – maybe 5000 sq. ft. – with rounded ceilings. For the most part unfinished reminding me of an airplane hanger. On the far side sits a stage, simple sound booth and a video screen. An unfinished loft looks over the room and a tiny kitchen sits at the back. It’s Sunday night. The band is warming up playing familiar Christian songs, sung in Portuguese. Services begin at 7PM.
To fully grasp what we are about to experience, I have to back track to the days that have led up to this final night in Brazil. As our trip began Saturday, we spent two days in Niteroi with the Sal & Luz Church. By their own admission, recently they have not spent enough time on the streets, enough time reaching the unreachable, enough time calling Gods lost. Mike’s message challenged the church to step up, to step out, to claim their church, to push back the darkness, to lift the veils, to go into the neighborhoods, into the favellas and unchain Gods people. The church body came forward, tears were flowing, hands were raised, the Spirit was moving and God was oh so loud. Pastor Moses pleaded and called to his church to go “out of the gate” to go beyond their comfort level, to reclaim the church, reclaim the neighborhoods and bring light to the “miserables.”, evangelizing in the favellas. This is where our trip began….seeing passion breathed back into a church.
The time between this beginning in Niteroi and the ending at Caju was filled with slices of ministry. There was time on the streets talking to locals and sharing the Gospel. Visiting a home for the elderly and as pitiful as our singing was – singing songs and chatted with them. It didn’t seem to matter that our languages didn’t match. In their world we were family members coming to visit and bringing them incredible joy. One lady told everyone I was her daughter and she hadn’t seen me for a very long time. I kissed her on the cheek and told her I’d see her soon.
Wednesday morning we went to the Parada de Lucas, a favella in the North zone of Rio. We went into the favella by car lead by two women on foot. Of the entire trip this was the most tense or unnerving. We made our way to a tiny, cramped school called Transformation. The people running the program were a huge light in an amazingly dark environment. We fell in love with them…a mother and daughter with a passion for change, a passion for God and a passion for education.
Thursday we drove an hour outside of the city to a Recovery Ranch. Eighty men live on-site and care for the crops and animals. We sang (again…Craig our missionary host was big on singing!), gave testimony and Mike talked from his heart. This is so much Mikes calling, talking to these guys, telling them he knows where they are, where they come from and where they can go; giving tremendous hope.
As the week closed out, we talked and performed skits for boys at a soccer camp in the Cesar Maiar, a favella run by a Militia group instead of the more familiar drug traffickers. These days, police officers, firemen and prison guards in Rio have been joining militias that are committing as much murder and crime as the drug gangs. The militias started out filling the vacuum left by authorities in “arranging security for residents and small businesses from drug traffickers. Over time, however, they began demanding payments in exchange. Soon the militias also started controlling the supply of water and cooking gas, etc. We went into Cesar Maiar to support the incredible work Pastor Francisco is doing there.
Saturday, four of us visited the prison. Again, the “prison” is nothing like what you could picture. It is a simple metal gate on a public street. We were led into the prison by guards. The guards are inmates. Yes, the prisons are guarded by their own. We walked thru a cramped alleyway, somewhat of a kitchen facility on one side, the living quarters on the other. When ready, we were guided into the activity center. The hallway was cramped, with series of metal gates to pass through; the ceiling was rough brick that even I felt I had to duck to pass through. After a couple turns, we landed in a relatively large brick room lined with concrete benches. As the first group of men were led in, all in their white t-shirts, it struck me how young they are – all looking like young boys, certainly not criminals. If you met their eyes, they smiled and nodded. I felt like I was in a high school assembly hall. We witnessed 3 men being baptized (water from a little beat up metal tray) and the room taking communion, such an honor. It was hard to reconcile in my mind who I was looking at versus the stories associated with them. As worship music played and prayers were spoken, they stood hands clasped, looking upwards. I wondered if they were looking to God or looking for the glimpse of blue sky you could partially see around the perimeter of the ceiling.
I recap all this as I try to wrap my head around what I saw and felt in Brazil. God. I felt God. Evil. I felt Evil. There is a very clear, sharp line….God or Evil – no in between. You are saved or you are not, no in between. You are in light or in darkness….no gray. Much of Rio exists in the shadows…..drug traffickers, drugs, weapons, spiritists, militia. You call on God daily, hourly, constantly for protection, for favor, for intervention. There is a battle taking place, not just the battle between government and traffickers, militia and people, but a stronger, bigger spiritual battle. A battle so much more evident that what we experience here in the states.
So back to the Igreja Batista Vida church in Caju. What comes to mind is the phrase My Future’s So Bright I Gotta Wear Shades. The band finishes warming up and the people begin to stream in, 25, 50, 75, 100…the seats of the warehouse church are starting to fill up. 150, 200, 300…the seats are full. The band starts playing and the people keep coming, its standing room only with over 400 in attendance. The church is bursting at its seams. The backdrop of the stage is a large banner:
Tomar A Cruz (Take up your Cross),
A Lei do Discipulado (The Law of Discipleship)
Each person here was brought by someone following this banner, someone willing to go into the favellas, onto the streets, into the shadows and bring people Gods word. They are not just sharing the Gospel, not just telling the story of Christ – they are fighting for souls. They are facing down evil and shining a bright light into their community. As the worship band plays, the energy in the room is exhilarating as people jump up and down, boldly and vibrantly worshiping our God. Every person in the room, other than the first time visitors, is a member of a small group. A cell group that meets in homes in the favellas, 15-20 people crammed into a small 10x12 room studying Gods word, keeping each other accountable and holding onto the light. Each person has another to disciple them. If a person leaves the group, the cell leader finds them to bring them back into Gods fold. If necessary the entire group goes to encourage them back. No lamb is lost, when they stray, the light follows and brings them home, home to God. God’s glory is in every facet of this church from the Pastor to the associate pastors to the cell leaders to each and every person. There is nothing we can offer this church, nothing we can bring to them. They are living in the glory of God and He is guiding each and every step, and they know it. They worship with abandon.
On this night, Mike gave a sermon. He praised them, he honored them. Mike has seen them grow from a little one room church in the favellas fearful of their streets to standing room only, bolding walking the streets and searching for lost lambs. Mikes message was powerful reminding them how the battle continues, encouraging them to stay strong, to persevere in the fight. He honored Pastor Fabio, reminding the church that their Pastor was a man of God, a warrior in Gods army, righteously leading them as they continue to claim their neighborhood. The people cheered.
As the trip comes to a close, I keep thinking about Jesus as Savior. As I flew home to the comfort of my little house and laid in the comfort of my bed, I keep thinking about my view of Jesus as Savior. He saves us from hell, he offers us eternity with Him. I call him Savior. I think when I call him Savior, it is different than the people of Caju, or Niteroi, or Recreo. When they call Him savior, He is also saving them from a darkness here on earth that can surround them like quicksand pulling them into depths of evil.
Continue to pray for the people of Rio De Janeiro…for the churches, the pastors, the missionaries and the people.
This trip was an amazing experience for all of us. We learned about ourselves; we learned about service and support; we learned that there are many heroes out there doing God’s work; we learned it is not all about us; we learned that we just may not know it all; we learned when we ask God to use us, we have to accept how He chooses to use us; we learned we are incredibly blessed in our lives; we learned prayer works even in the little things; and, we learned there are incredibly bright, almost blinding lights, in very dark places. We learned God works, we are just along for the ride.
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