The value of preaching the Word of God

The day I visited Mercedes she was not expecting me. Surrounded by a pantheon of static and cold gods, luck of a 'divine' Africania with syncretic license of other devotions, she looked like one more goddess presiding over her altar of multicolored necklaces and saints retouched with the brush of her own hands. Mercedes is called 'Tanta' and she is the most frequented person in the place. Women without a husband, men with more than one. Godchildren of all races and human genders bring her offerings: "homos" and "we have", girls who lost their virtue and are already carrying their pregnancy without the hope of a father who will take care of it later, street merchants of cigars "Habanos" who request protection of the gods to guard against justice, boys who are already old because they trotted early on the drug steed and were left without apparent age and an explicit loneliness in their hearts.

As Mercedes welcomes everyone, she opened the door for us with her usual joy.

-Welcome. Go ahead, this is your house, what do you want?

-Thanks. We are Christians. We would like to talk with you for a while. They say in the neighborhood that you have helped people a lot with their religion -

"Yes," he told us, opening the way to the altar room of his house, inviting us to sit in a corner.

She told us about her miraculous acts and the help she gave to the proselytes who came daily in need of any favor from the gods. The house smelled of burning wax mixed with jasmine perfume. The candy offerings smelled of syrupy sugar and Mercedes spoke endlessly about the benefits of having faith in those "gods of her ancestors" and how important it was for her to be a nun who helped others.

So faith comes from hearing, and hearing, by the word of Christ. (Ro 10.17)

"Do you know Christ?" I asked him, taking advantage of a pause in his speech. Do you know what God did for you and for all humanity by sending his Son Jesus Christ to die on a cross?

Kelvin, the missionary with me, felt from God that it was time for us to go on the offensive. Sin, repentance, saving faith, forgiveness, salvation, love of God; the words flowed and the Holy Spirit took control of the conversation. Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes later, Mercedes was staring, as if petrified, at an indefinite point on the roof of her house-altar. The invitation of Revelation 3.20 was heard in the air like a sublime hiss from the Lord and the walls of Jericó de Mercedes collapsed at his feet: “I stand at the door and knock; If someone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and have dinner with him and he with me. ”(Ap 3.20)

-Yes, I believe in Jesus Christ as my Savior. Oh my God, oh my God! I don't know, but I'm feeling like my heart wants to go out of my mouth. Oh my God, what is this! - Mercedes kept repeating over and over again with her hand placed on her heart and I remembered the tax collector, the publican who prayed in the temple, barely raising his eyes to heaven and beating his chest he said: “… Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner” (Luke 18:13).

This story happened a week ago and we left Mercedes' monitoring to the care of the local church. They say that a day later, under the bewildered gaze of her husband and the ill-intentioned warnings of her neighbors, “godchildren” and followers, they saw her loading the junk of her “divine” Afro-Cuban identity and dumping it in the public trash. She wore a new smile like a girl with a new gift and to everyone who passed by, without the usual hugs and signs, typical of her “old” religion, she gave a new greeting: -God bless you-, she said smiling and out of every three words that he uttered to his people, an era LOVE.

To God be the glory. Christ is irresistible. Preach the Word!

God bless you!