NEWSLETTER: JULY, 2005

Many of us have never had the experience of gathering to worship among the truly poor. In India, Africa and Brazil I have had that unique privilege. In Manaus, a gathering of lepers in a hot humid little building singing their praise to God. Raising crippled twisted hands without fingers and looking up to God despite eyes that could not see. These intimate times remain etched in my mind. Meeting with the poor saints. Indeed poor Christians meet as we rich Christians do, in different congregations praising and worshipping the same God. Some worship in cathedrals and great church centers while others worship in small simple places. One Sunday in India I spoke to a full house, a little church building with only eight seats. My honorarium? Three eggs.

In my world across the border, churches often meet in highly unusual places. For example, La Roca (The Rock) meets in a large upper room overlooking Martines Street in busy Zona Norte. On Sunday this street is turned into a temporary sleazy tent city shopping mall full of people buying food and secondhand items. The wide one way road has only a single lane open for cars and taxis to snake through. Finding parking is difficult, finding safe parking is impossible.

This morning I was speaking to the La Roca congregation. This is an urban group meeting in a very urban location right above the street in the center of Tijuana's red light district. Right where a church should be! After all, didn't Jesus teach us by His example to go to the needy? Along the busy sidewalk one short and narrow door among many has a small sign above it reading "La Roca." Walk through the doorway and up a steep flight of wooden stairs and you're there among the Believers.

I studied the mix of people. Middle class and poor. Old and young, some crippled. Some in their Sunday best while others wore all they had. All of them were there simply because they wanted to worship a God who loved them and was willing to reach down to the Zone to do it.

I've preached there before. Each time is deeply rewarding. These people are so easy to preach to and so spiritually hungry.

After the service, a man came up to me, shook my hand and looked me in the eyes. "I've been forty years looking for this, and now I've found it." He found his church! That made the day for me!

Some people stayed while others had to leave. Jose, shook my hand and said, "Thank you brother." He then stooped down, picked up his old shoeshine box and headed down the stairs to re-enter his world on the street.

Yes, Martines is our street too. The little orphanage El Pozo (the well) is there along with the children of the street. Indeed this is our world, thanks for making it possible for us to minister to the poor here in Tijuana.

For all of us, Pastor von