Make a Joyful Noise...

On the 25th of October, Kenneth’s church plus several other churches in the area, held a celebration service on his behalf. We were invited to come be a part of that along with Susanna. Although we weren’t sure exactly what was going to happen, we had assumed it was going to be a serious service for prayer and intercession...oh my goodness, it was anything but somber!

The service was supposed to begin at 4:00 p.m. and like typical Americans with the need to be prompt deeply engrained in us, we were there at 3:45. There was a light rain falling and the church was empty. Miguel and his family have become accustomed to this eccentric gringo behavior and so they were not at all surprised to see us. When I asked Miguel where everyone was, he just shrugged his shoulders. He said maybe because it was raining and that the power was off that everyone was waiting to come. It was my turn to shrug my shoulders. And so we sat in the car and waited.

After awhile, we saw Danelia and Arturo coming down the street. Danelia was walking holding Lindsay’s hand and Arturo was carrying Kenneth. They all looked very nice, dressed in their best, but they also all looked very somber. Danelia told me that Kenneth wasn’t feeling good and that he had been running a fever most of the day. She said he hadn’t felt much like eating and just wanted to sleep. It was easy to see that she and Arturo were concerned. I think if it would have been anything other than a special service in honor of Kenneth, she wouldn’t have brought him out, but the pastor had made such a big deal over his church doing this, she felt as though she had no choice.

Around 5:00 p.m., the people started coming and by 5:30, the church was standing room only. The rain had stopped, the power was back on and it was finally time to begin. Danelia directed us to the front row and sat down next to me. Arturo stayed toward the back of the church, greeting people as they came in. Kenneth and Lindsay sat with the other children right in front of us in little kiddie chairs. Miguel was busy helping with the sound equipment and Elizabeth was also at the back talking with friends.

Right before the program started, the pastor came over to us and asked if we would say something to the church about Kenneth. He said if we wanted to have Susanna translate for us, it would be fine…we were then doubly thankful she had come with us!

I am sure I’ve probably told you this before but if not, let me just say here that all Nicaraguan church services that we’ve ever had any experience with have one thing in common…and that’s trying to attain the maximum decibel level possible with all aspects of their services. I don’t know how microphones and speakers exactly work but if there were any correlation between the volume dial and the drain on the electric grid, I think I can understand why this country is always without electricity! This is no exaggeration…the music was so loud that it was constantly setting off our car alarm! But the neighborhood is such that neither Jim nor I thought it was a good idea to move the car any further away from the church than its spot right out front. So, the sing-song of the car alarm outside just added to the driving Latin beat coming from inside. It was a perfect combination for a gringo headache.

The program started out with the children’s minister (who reminded all three of us, Jim, Susanna and me, of a Nicaraguan version of Pee Wee Herman!) leading the kids in a variety of songs, many involving some sort of motion. This joyous chaos definitely set the tone for the rest of the evening. There were dances, solos, group songs, speeches and scripture readings, all performed at top volume. And like any good church service, there was a collection taken.

Two women came forward carrying identical long poles with identical purple velvet bags attached to the end. The women stood at the end of the stage extension and the children's pastor indicated that the lady that was standing to his right was holding the bag for the donation of funds for Kenneth. The other lady, to his left, was holding the bag for donations for the church.

After prayer, anyone who wanted to contribute was to come forward and put their money in one or both of the bags. Naturally, most of the crowd went to the lady to the right of the pastor and put their cords in to the bag that was designated for Kenneth. After a few minutes had passed and everyone had an opportunity to give their donations, the program continued. I watched as the women walked up on the stage and set their poles with their bags up on end in the corner.

No one paid much attention to the women as they left the stage and the bags kind of shifted in their position in the corner. The thought suddenly occurred to me that there wasn’t any way to tell which bag was which. I had a sinking feeling that what Kenneth’s family received was going to be dependent upon a judgment call from someone in the church, most likely the pastor. I hoped he would be honest.

Now before you get all up in arms about me having such a nasty thought, let me tell you that just as quickly as that mean thought entered my head, a sense of shame quickly followed that I would even entertain that thought. I was berating myself for being so distrustful of a pastor, (for heaven’s sake! ) when Susanna leaned over and asked me if I saw where the bags had been placed and wondered how they were going to tell them apart! I guess skepticism runs deep in hearts other than my own!

We had our opportunity to tell the church a little about our relationship with Kenneth and his family and even though we were both nervous to do so, it was easy to share our hearts. Susanna did a wonderful job of translating for both of us which was not unexpected. She is so good at translating. The church warmly received our words and we were given a loud applause when we finished. As we walked back to our seats, I saw Danelia quickly wiping her eyes and even Arturo’s expression softened from its usual sternness…which is so funny because Arturo seems to have a very gentle nature.

Another part of the program which obviously deeply touched Danelia was when Miguel, Esther (Miguel’s oldest daughter who is in 8th grade), Kenneth and Lindsay sang a song dedicated to Danelia. It was beautiful and she wasn’t the only one who needed a tissue…which I have to say is somewhat unusual for Danelia. She normally keeps her feelings close and isn’t a person who is overtly demonstrative. But this battle for her son is naturally wearing down her defenses and these days, it’s not uncommon to see those guarded brown eyes of hers soften and fill to overflowing with liquid emotion.

The program ended several hours later. Earlier, I had made some posters with all the pictures of those who are praying for Kenneth and had e-mailed me their SS class pictures or individual pictures and had given the posters to Danelia. I noticed they were placed around the church and Danelia was proudly showing the pictures to various people. It was then that I realized that Danelia and Miguel’s mother (who just lives two doors down from the church) and their other brothers and sisters who live in Tipitapa, did not bother to come to the service. Kenneth has a lot of cousins and only Miguel’s girls were there.

It made me so sad that personal prejudices against the church or some of its attendees and in some cases, a lack of faith in Jesus Christ, stood in the way of the rest of the family showing their support with their presence. I’m sure it was encouraging for the family to see all those who had turned out to support them with their talents, their presence, their prayers and their money. But I couldn’t help but wonder how Danelia must have felt to not even have the rest of her family there. It was another reminder to me how strong and supportive the bonds are with our brothers and sisters in Christ. It was a night that I’m sure will long remain in the minds and hearts of all those who love Kenneth and his precious family.

By the time we said all our good-byes, it was almost 9:00 p.m. Lindsay was sleepy, Kenneth was worn out and we were both. My ears were still ringing as we climbed in to the car to head back to Managua. But all in all, it was a wonderful evening. True…the music was loud, the church was hot, the children were disruptive but it was such an amazing demonstration of love and support that those things didn’t seem to really matter much.

I started thinking about what God’s Word says about “making a joyful noise”. I looked up on our computer Bible study program to see how Strong’s Greek/Hebrew Dictionary would define this term. Here’s what I found: the term “a joyful noise” is translated as “ruwa” in Hebrew. The definition of “ruwa” is: “a primitive root; to mar (especially by breaking); figuratively, to split the ears (with sound), i.e. shout (for alarm or joy): KJV - blow an alarm, cry (alarm, aloud, out), destroy, make a joyful noise, smart, shout (for joy), sound an alarm, triumph. (Biblesoft's New Exhaustive Strong's Numbers and Concordance with Expanded Greek-Hebrew Dictionary. Copyright (c) 1994, Biblesoft and International Bible Translators, Inc.)

I think after reading that definition, I had a better understanding of the noise of the night.