We All Serve One God
This past Sunday I took the opportunity to see my church from a different side. I normally attend Crossroads Christian Church every Sunday, and have been for the last four years. Another congregation that is connected with Crossroads meets Sunday’s as well, but I had no idea about them until now. In the Plex, the smaller sanctuary, the Spanish Ministry meets for a Sunday worship service.
I attended the service with a friend of mine from Crossroads Dianna Lopez who speaks a small amount of Spanish. As we walked up I was greeted with warm faces that were also perplexed by why I, a tall, blonde, white girl, was coming to the Spanish service, but no one the less the welcomed us. As we walked in I was one of the first to be there, most of the people were late actually; strolling in after the first song or two of worship was played. I am not sure if this is a cultural thing or not. Something cool that happened was I ran into Crossroads Jr. High Pastor, Noe, and was pleasantly surprised to find out he was the pastor of the Spanish Ministry! It was great to have another friendly face there.
As worship began I was nervous because I didn’t know what to expect or how I was supposed to act. Do I try to sing the songs and follow along with the Spanish subtitles? Or do I sit quietly and just spend time with the Lord privately? As the song began though the worship leader was so inviting it was no argument whether to stand or not, his enthusiasm raised me up. Then as the instrumental part of the song began I realized I knew the song! It was one of the ones we sing often at my normal service. So, I was able to sing along to the music in English as the others sang along with the leaders in Spanish. Worship was amazing, it really brought me into perspective that we are all praying to the same God and He understands us all as we were made fearfully and wonderfully by him, especially in culture and language. It was also a beautiful thing, to know even though we didn’t have a similar language or culture, we had a link between us; we were all serving the same God.
As service began I grasped a few things the pastor said, “how are you”, “lets pray”, “God”, “Jesus”, and then my high school Spanish level of thinking failed me, I didn’t know really any other words. And as the pastor got going into his message and was getting more and more fired up I was getting more and more left behind. He was speaking so quickly and the congregation answered back with “mmhmm’s” and laughter and I felt totally left out, not being able to understand the sermon let alone the jokes. Then, something beautiful happened, the pastor gave an invitation for anyone to come forward that needed and wanted to ask Jesus into their hearts for the first time, or as a recommitment. As the band began playing, five people came forward and gave their lives to the Lord! Praise God! What a blessing to have been a witness to lives changed that Sunday morning. Watching that happen helped me to realize that it was not about me. It was not about the fact that I couldn’t understand but that I was made uncomfortable to realize the magnitude of God is much larger than my small English speaking brain. Regardless of my understanding the service lives were changed. I was the one blessed watching lives changed from all cultures and backgrounds.