The Kornelsens were in Guatemala!: Semana Santa, Part 2

HE'S ALIVE!!

This morning we went to a small Easter Celebration at the Saravia’s (S.I. director). It’s about time. The processions are getting a little old. I mean, it’s been a wonderful experience, culturally intriguing and spiritually challenging. But after processions every weekend of lent, and in the past week at least a couple processions almost every day—four on Friday—through all hours of day and night, filling the atmosphere with pungent incense, and dirges with tubas and drums and cymbals, and morbid figures of Christ carrying a cross and crying Virgin Mary’s... well, we’re ready to celebrate that Jesus is totally ALIVE.

We were glad to see quite a few alfombras made for the Easter procession today, which turned out to be my favorite. This one was fairly modest—less incense and no robes for the carriers—and more upbeat with singing and clapping. You can’t really get tired of the alfombras, and the crowds haven’t bothered us like they might some of the locals. Except for the commotion around the procession, today there are mainly a few leftover gringos on the streets. Antigua has been full of people for Semana Santa (Holy Week). It seems to be a religious pilgrimage for some, a big party for some, and a tourist destination for others. For most it’s probably all of these.

The people of Guatemala are well-acquainted with the story of Jesus, his pain and crucifixion. We have developed a real respect for the way they recognize Christ’s sacrifice for us. They have such a vivid reminder every year. We could learn from the way they honour Jesus with these efforts. At the same time I have struggled with how our understanding differs from theirs. I guess for many people, faith is more trying than trusting.

I had a great conversation with one of our neighbours on Thursday while the 200+metre alfombra was being made outside our street. (His English was excellent, so I can be more confident that it actually was a good conversation!) After learning of our purpose here and telling me of some really great things he was involved in, he essentially said “I hope I go straight to heaven.” I’m pretty sure he meant he hopes not to spend much time in purgatory. It gave me a great glimpse into the mindset of his people, and an opportunity to share with him the possibility of knowing where we stand with God: The good we do is not really the reason we go to heaven. I mentioned a passage that I had happened to look at in the morning (Matthew 7:21-23), where Jesus describes what He will say to some religious people who had done lots of good things, “Get away from me, I never knew you!” Our neighbor seemed to recognize this truth. (He also commented on being able to tell what kind of people we were by the relationship we had as a family.)

At the crucifixion ceremony Friday afternoon in Central Park, a preacher was talking about (amongst other things) Jesus' thirst while he was on the cross... thirst for peace, for justice, for love. Although the language barrier was fairly high, I thought this was quite insightful. I noticed something yesterday evening as we watched the story again in “The Gospel of John”, a fantastic word-for-word depiction: It is very apparent that Jesus also had a great thirst for us to know His Father, through knowing Jesus himself, and that this relationship would remove fear and bring life and power to his followers by the presence of His Spirit.

Thank God that He has power over death, and that Jesus proved it by living after dying! This is the message of Easter. This is the good news—that we have ultimate life if we daily live His life instead of our own. That’s what it means to take up our own cross (Luke 9:23-25). Not just during Semana Santa, but every day. And the only way to do this is to rely on His life-power, not hope in our own efforts.