memory #43: And so it was

Towards the end of summer, we passed close to Moorhead, MN, when we visited South Dakota. Though I was born there, I know nothing about that town other than my parents worked in the fields nearby. I thought to take a detour and visit the city, but I ran out of time.

It did bring a story to mind concerning dad. A moment that, though appearing insignificant, was an essential step in his Christian walk. It was the 50s, and dad, a new convert, was excited to be back in Minnesota so he could preach the Word to fellow migrants. Tio Pilo was dad's right-hand man. They had crates and a blanket as a pulpit. They decided on weekends they'd visit camps and preach and enlighten their brothers and sisters. The first morning they drove to a field, there was a multitude. I'm sure that summer hundreds turned up to their makeshift services; and, over the years, I'm sure those numbers grew in the telling from hundreds to thousands and, on an occasion, during a moment of euphoria, I believe I might have heard a million. This particular morning, as they looked across the field, it must have seemed like 5,000, and they must have wondered if their tacos and coffee would, like the miracle of the five loaves and two fish, feed the multitude.

Dad said they were surprised the workers knew of their coming. They were anxious to spread the Word, so before the car came to a complete halt, they jumped out and immediately set up the pulpit. The crowd was milling around in small groups and had their backs to them, but dad felt as soon as he started preaching, the mass would turn and be filled with the Holy Spirit! He said, "We're like Mexican Billy Grahams!" They had the biggest grins. But as dad began to speak, he felt the tension, and the mood quickly changed. Suddenly a stone came hurtling towards them, then another and another. Soon they were being pelted, and screams rang out, "We don't want los hallelujahs here." It was then they noticed the dice and the money. They have never moved so fast in their lives! As they sped away, stones bounced off the car, and curse words they didn't know existed seared their ears.

That day Dad and Tio Pilo made a promise. Like Steven, who was stoned to death for his believes, they would continue their work; and if stoning was the price to pay, so be it: "But Stephen, full of the Holy Spirit, looked up to heaven and saw the glory of God and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. 'Look,' he said, 'I see heaven open and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God.' At this, they covered their ears and, yelling at the top of their voices, they all rushed at him, dragged him out of the city, and began to stone him (Acts7:56-58).

All summer, dad preached the good news whether he was talking to a friend as they worked the field, or spreading the Good News during lunch break, or merely proclaiming the Messiah's love and forgiveness to whoever would listen. He never, ever let a stone or the threat of any type of stoning deter the preaching of the Gospel. His journey had begun, and it would forever change the course of his life and those around him. In his heart, he carried a verse, Philippians1:21: "For me, to live is Christ and to die is gain." It's inscribed on his tombstone. And so it was...