If you’ve wondered why I haven’t posted anything in a while it’s because I just got back from a 10 day missions trip in Mexico. It was absolutely amazing!
I used to play the ‘two truths and a lie’ game in elementary school where we had to write down two truths and one lie about yourself and let your partner guess which one was the lie. I always wrote “I’ve been to Mexico,” as my lie because I knew they would think that one had to be true since I’m Mexican! Even though I didn’t speak a word of Spanish and knew almost nothing of Mexican culture it worked every time. Now I can no longer use that for that game.
Before going on this trip I was told how different everything will be when we go there. I was told the food was going to taste better, the people were going to be more holistic; oh and they said the Mexican Coca-Cola—it’s to die for.
I’ve always heard many go on and on about the wonders of Mexican Coke and how much better tasting it is compared to American Coke, for its more ‘natural flavor’. Mexican Coke still uses sugar cane in its recipe while American Coke chose to go the way of high-fructose corn syrup decades ago.
Interestingly, before I left to Mexico I was given a similar impression about the Mexican people. I was told how different their culture is from ours and how Americans tend to compartmentalize while Mexicans have a more holistic approach to spirituality. I understood all this to mean that us corrupt-minded Americans were going to go to Mexico to see what real spirituality was about by interacting with Mexican Christians who may have a better grasp on spirituality and free-flowing ministry. I was given the impression that Mexican Christians are more spiritual in the same way I was told that Mexican Coke tasted more natural.
This missions trip was not about “us flourishing Americans” going down to make Mexicans like us. I think we can all agree that that approach is wrong. However I was afraid that we were teetering on the other extreme of us Americans being the messed up ones going to see how things should really be done.
We mainly helped minister at different churches in Tijuana and Rosarito and the more people I met the more I realized that these people are actually not that different. I talked and joked around with a group of Mexican youth that had learned English and the more we interacted the more similarities I found.
Is it possible that we all struggle with the same large issues, fear the same problems, share the same joys, have the same passions, and seek after the same exact God no matter where we are in the world?
Again and again I found that answer to be YES as the trip progressed.
And I actually tried Mexican Coke. And it wasn’t that different. Of course there are slight differences in taste, but overall it pretty much tasted the same to me.
And as I laughed, ate, prayed and worshipped with people who grew up in a different culture than I did I looked around and realized there aren’t many differences there either.
- Americans compartmentalize; Mexicans compartmentalize.
- Americans rival with other churches; Mexicans rival with other churches.
- Americans lose track of God in their work; Mexicans lose track of God in their work.
- But Americans also seek to bring this God to the poor and marginalized; Mexicans seek to bring this God to the poor and marginalized.
- Americans seek church reformation and new methods for a changing culture; Mexicans seek church reformation and new methods for a changing culture.
- Americans seek to reach out to the growing number of youth who have left the church; and Mexicans seek to reach out to the growing number of youth who have left the church.
Even though we have differences and some Americans may be upset about ‘Americanized corrupted brains’ the same way some are upset about the high fructose corn syrup in American Coke, there’s really not that many differences when you stop looking for them.
As a Mexican who grew up not feeling Mexican I always wondered what the point of my ethnicity was. I don’t speak Spanish, my parents don’t speak Spanish and the majority of my friends are white. It just didn’t make much sense to me.
On the fifth day of the trip I was prayed over by the pastor of the church we stayed at. He told me that it is not an accident that I have ancestors who are Mexican, and that God is giving me a heart for the people of Mexico and the entire Latin American community.
I felt like this was God telling me “I made you who you are for a reason. And it’s bigger than you think so just wait and see what I’m really going to do through you.”
Sounds good to me.