Cuba, 2012, Day Three

On Saturday, we ate breakfast, traveled to the church, and then boarded a large truck with a covered, seating area to make our way to a plantation owned by one of the church members. Today, 14 members of Pedro Betancourt were to be baptised into the faith. The drive was rough, over a dirt road, and since the truck was full, I found myself standing in the truck, which was difficult, but manageable. I had to constantly be aware of the relationship of the roof to my head, avoiding the possibility of bouncing into the top of the truck.

Once we arrived, I exited the vehicle and helped a few others down the steps. We made our way through a gate and sat in a shady spot, under some trees, on some old train or construction rails. Wild turkeys were in the banana trees nearby and the steady breeze made the heat of the day bearable. The plantation went of into the distance further than the eye could encompass.

Pastor Julio gathered the crowd and began to teach them about the importance of baptism. He then asked me to share a few thoughts on what they were about to do and I shared that we celebrate baptism as both an act of obedience - following the example of Christ - and as a symbolic act of our willful decision to grow in faith. We then made our way to a pump house and cistern. The water was being pumped through a pipe into a concrete "pool" about 4x6 feet in diameter and about 3 feet high. From the edge of the cistern jutted a descending "slide". Once the water rose to a certain height, it would flow down this "slide" and then irrigate the fields. I took off my shoes and socks, and entered the water in my long pants and shirt. (Actually, they were an old pair of pants that Parks was too thin to wear, so I borrowed them. I would leave them in Cuba, which was Parks intention in the first place.)

The water was cold, but quickly turned refreshing and comfortable. Parks and Pastor Julio also entered the water and we began the process of immersion. Each candidate, one by one, made their way up the "slide", with family and fellow church members on either side, laying hands on and praying for each one. Some were overcome - slain in the Spirit, as it is often referred to - and getting them into the water (and subsequently out) was sometimes tricky. Pastor Julio gave me the responsibility (honor is a better term) of baptizing each one in the name of the Trinity. I have to admit, this was not only the highlight of the entire journey for me, but next to baptizing my own children, was one of the best moments of my life. To be in a different country and culture, yet baptizing brothers and sisters into the Kingdom; well... Let's just say it doesn't get much better than that!

Afterwards, the children all jumped in for a swim, with Pastor Julio getting out, only to jump back in to make sure Parks and I were good and wet! We got out, put our shoes back on, and went back to the shady area. There, one of the little girls offered me a fresh mango, which I thoroughly enjoyed, along with some chicken soup. The truck failed to arrive, so we began to walk back to town via the bumpy dirt road.

Along the way, we stopped at another mission, a wooden shack. We met the woman who lived in that home and visited her husband, who had an ulcer on his leg, just above his right ankle, that was not healing very quickly. We prayed for him and then continued back to Pedro Betancourt. (Later, Parks would find some anti-bacterial cream and bandages to present to the man in order to help him.)

We rested at Pastor Julio's home, ate dinner, and then visited 2 more missions that evening, again sharing in songs, worship, and giving our testimonies. We returned late and I went to bed, as I had developed a slight headache from all of the activity of the day. Tomorrow was Sunday, after all, and I would be preaching in the morning and we would be visiting another mission in the evening.