Two chickens scrounging anxiously for something to fill their stomachs, pecking their way along the dirt road and through the garbage piles; a round little boy with a lollipop in his mouth- walking, though with no sense of urgency; distorted Bachata music drowning out, in an almost surreal way, all the sounds that one would otherwise expect to hear; two young men lounging in plastic chairs enjoying an afternoon game of checkers- using bottle caps atop a thin piece of wood, with squares sketched roughly in pencil; a beautiful young girl twirling nearby is her stunning white Sunday dress, contrasting with the unimpressive, worn, dirt-stained clothes of her friends; mopeds bouncing and creaking, converging and weaving amid a multitude of rainbow-like houses, which, despite all the bars and barbed wire and ominous tapestries of power lines overhead, are welcoming with a warmth that mirrors the surrounding climate. Maria Auxiliadora is a strange, yet wonderful place. And here I am: standing at the intersection, my feet placed awkwardly between two mud puddles- remnants of a wild storm- flossing my teeth and asking my brother Dudo if I can borrow his shirt.

This is life. My life, yes, but more importantly our life. All these events are passing and we’re sharing in them together, as a community, in what is a wondrous and redemptive and breathtakingly mysterious journey, when one stops to consider it. I often try to ponder what God may be doing through it all, but of course it is far too grand for any one of us to understand. That’s part of the beauty- it’s collective and as inextricable as the countless spliced cords overhead. If we’re the cords then I suppose Jesus is the central transformer, holding everything together and making it coherent. We find our meaning in him.

Ordinary things, simple things- things that may even be deemed insignificant- are somehow brought together in Jesus. Observing two girls swinging back and forth on a tire filled with cement, hands grasping the pole, rocking back and forth and laughing, eyes fixed on one another’s faces; sharing dinner with my friends Tracy and Darin, talking and laughing and enjoying the atmosphere for hours; dancing on a smooth floor at Hector’s angelito party, spinning and shuffling and bumping elbows and enjoying the freedom- twenty of us, squished like sardines, in the living room, singing along to the romantic music.

Rob Bell puts it like this in his book Velvet Elvis: “What I find fascinating is how many of us have had moments like these when we were overwhelmed with the presence of something or somebody so- and it is hard to find words here- so good, so right, so true, so safe.

“Warmth, comfort, terror- but the good kind of terror. Maybe we should say ‘awe’. You have your own ways of describing these moments…Ordinary moments in ordinary settings that all of a sudden become infused with something else. With meaning. Significance. Hope…

“I assume you have had moments like this when you were caught up in something so much bigger than yourself that you couldn’t even put it in words. What is it about certain things that ignite something within? And is that something actually someone?

“Whatever those things are that make you feel fully alive and like the universe is ultimately a good place and you are not alone, I need a faith that doesn’t deny these moments but embraces them. I need spiritual understanding that celebrates these kinds of transcendent moments instead of avoiding them. These moments can’t be tangents. They can’t be experiences that distract from ‘real’ faith. These moments can’t exist on the edges, because they are a part of our faith. A spirituality that is real will have to make sense of them and show us how they fit. They are expressions of what it means to live in God’s world.

So all these blessed, holy, kingdom revealing moments- combined with the unavoidable tension caused by unjust, brutal, painful moments- collide to bear testimony to a big savior who is healing a deep problem. We’re not there yet, but I give thanks to God for how the beauty of his redemption is revealed in countless ways in this place. Heaven is shining forth even now- the light piercing the darkness- epitomized in the Son. “The reality,” Paul writes, “is found in Christ.”

Before I came down my psychologist promised me that the reality of poverty would ‘hit me’. Well, I feel like it has hit me in waves, crashing upon me as I continue to become more aware of the real injustices that the people of Maria Auxiliadora face.

When one first walks into the barrio it seems like such a colorful, lively place with so much up-beat music and happiness; the satisfied and worry-free attitude is almost contagious. During the first week it is more or less surreal- the place is such a tight-knit, hospitable, beautiful community. Who would not want to move in and live there for a while? Now I’m not saying that all these positive aspects aren’t true, but if that is the only picture one has of the barrio, it is certainly an incomplete one.

About a week ago now, I was feeling broken and nearly depressed after uncovering the physically abusive home situation of one of my close friends. I felt frustrated and furious- who was going to take a stand for justice? I did not want to tolerate it. I spoke with Joy about what initiatives are being taken to reverse the cycle of oppression and violence. Our conversation ended with a sense of hopelessness and the dissatisfying conclusion that we are only a few foreigners in a seemingly unalterable culture of intrinsic destruction. I then got thinking about how the situation here in the Dominican Republic is only the tip of the iceberg when one looks at things on a world scale.

I spent the afternoon in prayer, encountering some key truths found in scripture. The first passage I came upon was in Isaiah chapter 62:

“You who call on the LORD, give yourselves no rest,

and give him no rest till he establishes Jerusalem
and makes her the praise of the earth.”

It felt liberated, having come across a command that we should be very concerned about all the pain in this world, constantly coming before our Almighty Father in our distress and even in our anger, that we might find comfort in his wisdom. The Bible calls us to be passionate about the redemption of creation, joining with God and his loving purposes to wipe away every last tear from every human face in existence.

The other passages I found right at the heart of the gospel. John 19 says: “Then Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged. The soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head. They clothed him in a purple robe and went up to him again and again, saying, ‘Hail, king of the Jews!’ And they struck him in the face.” Jesus witnessed such brutal suffering in order to eventually end all suffering forever. If there has ever been a cause for outrage, this is it: the most innocent man who has ever lived being struck mercilessly- enduring agony, though he did nothing to deserve it. He did it for us, so that we could one day be freed completely from all pain. That is moving…moving beyond words.

The second verse reinforces the picture: “When they came to the place called the Skull, there they crucified him, along with the criminals—one on his right, the other on his left. Jesus said, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing. And they divided up his clothes by casting lots.” To those who killed him, Jesus showed the most incredible love, willing that their sins be forgotten and that they be reunited with their Creator.

Now, these verses provide a powerful basis for realizing and feeling the evil of this world without being destroyed by it. Jesus’ crucifixion is a real and radical declaration that God loves us and means to deal with our problem, no matter what the cost. ‘Hell is worth it,’ sounds the cry of the cross, ‘if you and I can be together!’ It gives me radical determination, radical rest and radical hope. It’s all about the glory, the significance- the weightiness of Jesus. He deserves more praise than the universe can give.