I
have seen a place called Talamanca. I have tasted
it, touched it, heard it, and smelled it. It is a
place of steep jungle, covered mountains and rocky
rivers where the water flows so fast and so clear
that if you simply looked in before you put your foot
in, you may not know how deep it is, and you could
be swept away before you knew. There are banana groves,
and plantain groves, and cacao groves, and oranges
and lemons and limes and coconuts. There are fish
in the streams that look like trout, except that their
scales are like carp and their mouth is like a sucker
and they never bite on a fly (but they can be speared
by young Indian boys). There are cattle and pigs and
chickens and dogs without names. In the forest there
are toucans and parrots and tasty little rodents called
“tapisquamale.” There are snakes large
and small, poisonous and constrictors, and those that
only look poisonous.
There
are people native to Talamanca. They are the indigenous
tribes of Cabecar and Bribri. They have a language
that is related to each other, but not to any other
known Western tongue. They have a god who is jealous
and demanding and unforgiving. There are shaman who
hold “The Stones” and have the power to
invoke curses and blessings, control demons and spirits.
The powers can be bought or sold or used for extortion
of money or sexual favors. Tribute is exacted from
Cabecar villagers each year and brought to the grand
celebration at the home of the chief “Keeper
of the Stones” -- an elderly woman who lives
at the western end of the valley of San Jose Cabecar.
It is well known among the Cabecar that if the Stones
are destroyed, the world will end.
To
our Western minds, the spirits, demons, and curses,
and Stones are quaint myths of another culture, and
we want to make allowances for the harmless ideas
like Episcopalians forgiving Lutherans for not holding
communion on every Sunday morning. But to the indigenous
tribes, the shaman are more present than the local
police officer here, and the spirits and spells are
as real as the credit on our MasterCards. If you ask
a Cabecar to name the most common cause of death amongst
his tribesmen, he is likely to give you a reply, which
roughly translated means, “The River Jaguar.”
The River Jaguar is spirit, but he is real. What else
could explain the unexpected death of an otherwise
healthy young man found at the riverbank? Certainly
not the chichi (fermented banana mash) that he consumed
before he tried to come home across the treacherous
streams on the previous evening. It was the River
Jaguar. And perhaps it was.
I
believe in prophetic visions of Talamanca. I believe
in them because I have heard the visions from God’s
people, and seen little glimpses of God’s Talamanca.
For example, Mrs. Jones, who spent the great majority
of her adult lifetime working with her missionary
husband and raising her eight children in Talamanca,
had a vision of 700 Cabecar standing on a mountaintop
when Jesus returns through the air to receive them.
She had that vision after they had lived and worked
for nearly 20 years without a single convert. I believe
in the vision. There will be 700 Cabecar, and more,
welcoming back Jesus. There will be Bribri, too. And
standing amongst them all will be the children and
grandchildren of Mrs. Jones. The great importance
of prophecy is not that it simply predicts the future,
but that it gives a vision for the Kingdom of God.
And once that vision of the Kingdom is “caught,”
it becomes worthy of our best efforts to bring the
vision from eternity to this time and space continuum.
Surrounding
Talamanca are people who have experienced God’s
prophecy for
Talamanca. Three of Mrs. Jones’ sons, Philip,
Timothy and David, along with their families, continue
in the second generation mission to the Cabecar. Ken
Orozco, along with his wife, also continues a second
generation mission at the village of Bambu. Tom and
Laurie Kennedy have established a mission church at
San Lucas and are trying to establish a clinic and
ministry center at Paso Marcos. Mauricio Urena, the
physician in charge of medical care for Talamanca,
believes in and works for better medical care with
the message of salvation through both government clinics
and missions. John Whited with AguaViva Ministries
has established an evangelical church in the town
of Bribri, and continues to work to bring the gospel
to the more difficult to reach villages.
This
February I had the honor of being part of a team to
provide a medical and evangelical mission to the village
of San Jose Cabecar. The area is typically a two day
journey from Bribri in good weather. In bad weather,
it is unreachable. The first day is traveling by truck,
canoe, and tractor-wagon to Porfilio’s house
in Bajo Coen. The second day is backpacking with porters
through rivers and over small mountains to the eastern
end of the San Jose Cabecar valley. This was my third
trip to San Jose Cabecar over the past four years.
Last year our team went on a mission to another village.
This year when we arrived at the guest hut, the roof
and been freshly patched, the floors swept, and there
was a fire burning in the cooking pit. The village
leader and hut owner came about an hour after we arrived
to welcome us. He said he didn’t think we would
be back after we didn’t come last year. It takes
return visits to build trust.
This
year’s team consisted of myself to provide medical
care, John Whited to guide, translate, and cook, James
Gray of MissionFOTO to take pictures and video, John
Armenta to translate, David Jones to do evangelism
and build relationships, Porfilio of Bajo Coen to
supervise the porters and translate from Bribri into
Spanish, and Eric and Matches (Raynor) to just generally
help and catch fish, Adam, a college student from
Indiana, and Minor, a Cabecar who was spending some
discipleship time with David.
As in previous years, we set up a limited pharmacy
and saw all comers with no charges or questions asked.
Everybody got antiparasiticals, and nearly everybody
got ibuprofen or acetaminophen. There were needs for
vitamins, and cough medicines, and eye and ear drops
and a few antibiotics. Cortisone creams and anti-fungal
creams were popular. Basic medical needs were simple,
but appreciated.
There
were joys, like seeing the three-year-old girl who
had been near death at a clinic in Bajo Coen three
years ago before treatment by Dr Dwight Adams and
his niece Dr Susan Adams. John and I had seen her
two years before when her family brought her on the
two hour walk from their home just to show us that
she was okay. What I didn’t know then was that
her paternal grandmother is “The Keeper of the
Stones” at San Jose Cabecar. We ended up sending
a package to medicines the grandmother on the basis
of description of symptoms by her son. We promised
to pray for her.
There
were sorrows. One young man who had served as a porter
on the first two trips to San Jose Cabecar had died
in a landslide a month prior to our trip. We had visited
his home to make a house call to his elderly mother
on our first trip. His mother died the week following
his death.
The
spectacular change from prior missions was effective
evangelism. Amongst the bags to be carried this year
was a 60 pound generator and a gallon of gas to run
it. David Jones personally carried the projector and
tape player to show the Jesus film in that jungle
hut. The film, combined with David’s explanations
in their native tongue, brought the Gospel home in
a very effective way. On the first night, three people
came forward to what David called “walk on the
little trail.” (I believe most of us would refer
to this as the narrow path that leads to salvation).
On the second night, another young man came forward.
The film was shown to an audience of about fifty people
both nights. These were the first professions of faith
in this village to my knowledge.
As
one might expect, persecution is right on the heels
of faith. One of the women who came forward for Jesus
went home to find her house burned to the ground.
Fortunately there were no injuries to people or livestock,
but they have a big re-building task ahead. The needs
of this family acutely point out our limited ability
to bring our new Christians into a community of faith
for discipleship and support. Moments like this bring
up John’s vision of a helicopter for the Central
American mission field. What once seemed fanciful,
now seems necessary.
We
had other adventures and high and low moments. We
saw the body of a great snake, ate some kind of jungle
rodent (cooked well, of course), became tired and
sore, prayed for deliverance of patients from the
demons that plagued them at night, and had the week’s
great operation to remove a splinter from a man’s
leg -- not brain surgery, you understand, but appreciated
just as much I think.
I
believe in a Talamanca I have not seen. I believe
in a Talamanca that has clean drinking water in every
home, and communities of believers in every village.
I believe in a Talamanca where children never die
of dehydration, and the River Jaguar is without power
and lost to mythical tales of the past. I believe
in a Talamanca that is not exploited economically,
where young people’s hands are not crippled
by arthritis from chopping plantains for nominal wages.
I believe in a Talamanca where native peoples are
not held in bondage to spirits and curses of this
world, where the Stones are broken, Jesus is honored,
and prayers are freely offered and freely answered
by the One who has power over all of creation.
As
I look at the Talamanca I see, as compared to the
one I believe in, I see a ring of great Christian
warriors committed to seeing prophecy fulfilled. Their
names are Jones, Whited, Kennedy, Orozco, Urena, and
they stand with people they have brought to the battlefield.
There is a name for this ring of warriors -- it is
called the Church, the Bride of Christ.
I
believe that there are Talamancas in Jacksonville,
Florida. There is a Talamanca at the hospital I work
at everyday. It is a place of noble purpose, but with
daily battles against death and disease, greed and
arrogance, complacency replacing compassion. I believe
there is a Talamanca in the community around Windy
Hill Elementary School, and around the City Rescue
Mission., and around Simpson Memorial UMC. I believe
that every eye that reads this can identify a Talamanca
within reach of their ministering hands.
And
I believe that there is a vision for “the Kingdom
Come” to each of those Talamancas -- a vision
that can be reached in this time-space continuum by
the same basic means that bring the prophecy true
in Costa Rica: Prayer, and living life in God’s
purpose (walking on the little trail), and working
with a community of faith, the Church.
I
thank all of you for your prayerful support of the
ministry in Costa Rica. I wish you all God’s
speed in walking on your little trails and seeing
God’s prophecies fulfilled in your lifetime.
