Reentry

 

The house in Almafuerte as it looks today

Friday November 10 was a rainy day when the cruise ship Eugenio C arrived in the Buenos Aires harbor. Was this a portent of what awaited me?

    The last letter from my parents, written October 10, opened with an ominous statement. "Last week was one of the hardest weeks we've had in our lives." The missionaries met and discussed the "neo-pentecostal" movement and agreed to firmly stick to the doctrines held by the Brethren church no matter what the cost. They presented the position concerning the gifts of the Spirit to the Consejo (the joint council of missionaries and national workers). Alberto Sotola, Council president, took the matter to the Administrative Committee of the Church. A letter went out to the churches with an ultimatum. Pastors who did not agree were dismissed. Congregations who went along with their teaching were cut off from the denomination and could lose their buildings.

    I did not know what to expect. Where would I fit in this painful scenario?

    Before my arrival in November, my father traveled to the churches in Buenos Aires to meet with the believers and explain the denominational position in question. Even those who did not agree were grateful for his plea for reconciliation and peace. He was their beloved pastor.

    Four national pastors and two lady workers were dismissed. I had dear friends on both sides. How would I bridge the widening chasm?

    

    Meanwhile, the long-awaited reunion with my family was a joyous one. I reread Mother's family letter dated November 12 and tried to imagine the details leading up to the much anticipated event.

Thursday the 9th about 7:30 we started out for Bs. As. We had a very pleasant trip down with not much traffic and not hot and dirty. At noon we stopped along the road and ate our lunch in a grove of eucaliptus trees. We had borrowed an ice chest . . . and it kept everything nice and fresh. We even could take jello.

When we got to B.A. we ate supper at a place in Castelar then went over to the Maconaghy's [missionary friends and colleagues]. Until we talked over all the things we had to find out and got to bed it was almost 12 o'clock. The next morning we got up at 5 to be able to be get down to the port at 7. It rained off and on through the night and in the morning it rained the whole way in town and all morning while we were waiting in the port. When we got there the boat was already in and there was such a multitude of people that we couldn't see anyone but umbrellas and people. It wasn't until about 11 A.M. that we knew for sure that she was on the boat. A girl who traveled with her came out of the customs and looked around at the people who were behind the fence then walked over to me and asked for whom I was waiting. I guess my red hair serves for something. She went back in then and told Rita (staying with the bags). Before long Rita came out to greet us. Aldo and I were the only ones of our family there as Daddy was in a resaurant nearby trying to keep the boys dry. We had been taking turns watching and he just happened not to be there. There were over a 1,000 passengers so by the time she got out of customs it was almost 12. We ate our lunch out at Maconaghy's and then started home. It was a long hard trip and we kept falling asleep, first I then Daddy. We got home Saturday morning at about 6 o'clock. We had been 24 hours without sleeping so we just piled into bed. 

    Before long, the day's demanding interruptions cut our nap short. We were soon caught up in a variety of activities. Dad and some men were involved in landscaping around the recent construction site. I went along with Aldo and the Bible Institute students to do evangelism in a neighboring town. We returned with glowing reports. One example of God at work was when an 85-year-old Hungarian woman came out of the house where we parked the truck and was overjoyed to meet real Christians. 

    The truck in question was being readied for the summer campaigns. The vision for such an evangelistic effort began early in the year when Dad felt compelled, during the camp bonfire finale, to challenge the youth to join the summer crusades the following year.

     In March, the mission acquired a ten-ton V8 truck as the easiest solution for a debt payment. The idea was to sell it. However, in time it was understood as a provision for the Operation Mobilization-style summer evangelistic campaigns.

    In September, Mother reported,

Daddy, Aldo, and Ivan have spent most of the day working on the truck for the summer campaigns. They are enclosing it all with "pino spruce" and it is going to be real pretty varnished. If they have no other sleeping quarters for the girls in the different towns they plan to have them sleep in the truck and the boys in our tent. There are a lot of things to be worked out but gradually they will be solved.

 

    Although I was now in South America, important letters were still traversing three continents. 

    My brother Lynn remained in the US in college, often working more than one job, struggling and homesick for Argentina. He longed to return there for the summer but was advised to get a job instead. A letter from the Department of State regarding his dual citizenship, confirmed the decision to remain in the US. 

. . . your status as an Argentine national would require you to comply with the same laws which apply to other nationals of that country, including those governing military service . . . should you place yourself within the jurisdiction of Argentina which also has a claim to your allegiance, . . . you must comply with the law of Argentina just as any other national of that country is required to do.

   Regular correspondence with Michael Koch continued though crossing the ocean took ten days or more. I was grateful to be able to share with someone who had experienced the O.M. life and training.

    My December 15th response to his letter from a month earlier, was a summary of my last days in England (after he returned to his military station), the trek back to Spain, the experiences of the 10-day ocean cruise, the situation I currently faced, and an outline of the upcoming evangelistic program.

    I related the encounter with Gracia, in answer to my prayer that I would meet another believer on the cruise ship. She belonged to a Catholic lay movement called Focolare. Their aim is to love as Jesus loved. "Love one another. As I have loved you, so you also must love one another (John 13:34). As she explained, it was to "to set on fire with love the city where they are but with a vision for the whole world!"  They have a very strong message of unity based on Jesus' prayer "that they may all be one (John 17:21)."  Their communities included different denominations and religious beliefs. In O.M. unity was also a priority. We were urged not to push our various denominational differences, but to focus on the core message of the Gospel. The friendship and bond formed with Gracia served to reinforce my desire to "Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace (Ephesians 4:3)."     

    I did not know how that would play out but I knew I could trust the God who is faithful. 

"The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me;

your steadfast love, O Lord, endures forever.

Do not forsake the work of your hands."

Psalm 138:8 ESV   

1967--Best and Worst

Construction of Santa Isabel church

 

It was the best of years. It was the worst of years.

    My year in Spain was a mountain-top experience. Letters I wrote to my family in Argentina, and carbon copied to my brother and grandmother in the US, abounded with exhuberant thanksgiving and praise for all that God was doing. 

    However, the news from Argentina was increasingly troublesome. What was I being thrown into?

    1967 was a stress-filled year for Dad and Mother. Both carried heavy workloads and demanding responsabilities.

    Dad became the president of the Field Council and registered as such in the Ministerio de Cultos (Ministry of Religious Affairs) in Buenos Aires. This leadership role came at a very difficult time for the Grace Brethren Mission in Argentina.

     Dad taught in the Bible Institute. At one time there were eighteen students in the Greek class, ranging in ages from 17 to 45. He enjoyed the classroom and the insights gained from a deeper study of Holy Scripture, but sometimes felt they should have covered more. Mother helped out with paperwork for each student; applications, medical certification, grades and report cards.

    Dad was involved directly or overseeing several construction projects. These included: additions to the Bible Institute kitchen and dining facilities; apartments intended for married students or the elderly; Hoyt's house roof and patio repairs; renovations, improvements to the workshop, like adding a second floor for the frame shop. Meanwhile, Mother and Dad, were responsible for supervising the students' ongoing projects in the workshop and maintenance of the machines and tools. The monthly denominational magazine, El Heraldo, was printed there, as well as any other leaflets, brochures, tracts, informational material.

    In addition, a new little church building was going up in a nearby town. Everywhere he went, Dad was a church-builder not only of the spiritual body of Christ but also of physical structures.

    Mother was an immaculate housekeeper. I am in awe of her management skills, considering the challenging demands of her circumstances. The three boys still at home were far apart in age: Aldo, a very busy high school student; Ivan, a struggling third-grader; and Alan, a pre-schooler she still referred to as the "baby." For several weeks at the beginning of the school year, Ivan attended third grade in the morning and second in the afternoon. After a test in April, he was released from the PM session. Then the brotherly squabbles increased and Mother was known to quote her mother: "Why have I been punished with fighting children?" Whenever laid-back creative little Ivan, fell behind in school, he was threatened with returning to afternoon session. Then his grades improved. The brothers who were in school, both experienced degrees of bullying. In one episode, Aldo was pursued and pelted with mud. Mother mentioned that his new guardapolvo had cost 30 pesos (almost the equivalent in dollars)! The white school uniform, meant to guard or keep clothes from dust and dirt, had to be bleached, starched and ironed--a mother's nightmare.

    Aldo remembers the spitwads and persecution he endured. However, he recalls that there came a time of reckoning for the entire class. He went to the principal to intercede for them as it was not fair that the whole class should pay for the malicious instigations of one classmate. Aldo refused to give a name and the case was dropped.

     Hospitality was a normal part of life. Mother frequently cooked meals for the construction workers and a constant flow of guests throughout the year. These were, for the most part, joyful and precious times of fellowship, such as the farewell visit of Jim and Margaret Marshall, some of our earliest and dearest missionary friends. However, when I read that the washer went out in March and could not be repaired for months, I wondered how Mother coped or even survived. As I imagine her washing everything by hand, my admiration soars. After several attempts by Aldo and Dad, finally sometime in September, Dad spent an entire day and successfully repaired the old washing machine.

    The refrigerator failed for a time. The unusually cold winter caused problems, frozen pipes, failing heaters. Aldo, called on to fix the Bible Institute girls' stoves, complained about their careless maintenance. There were problems with the sinks in the workshop. And regular correspondence was complicated by a faulty typewriter.

    It is no wonder that all these stresses affected my parents' health. In January Mother was ordered to rest two weeks for a ruptured disc. Dad and Aldo took charge of meals. On one occaion Aldo made pizza and Dad the applesauce. (That note tells me it was a typical family meal and explains why I favor that combination to this day!)

    Off and on Dad suffered from rheumatism in his neck. 

    Accidents happened. Mother suddenly passed out one afternoon and learned she was allergic to the sting of tiny red ants. The doctor across the street rushed over and saved the day. Ivan had a bike accident and probably broke his nose. There were bouts of sickness in the family and among the students. Oscar Zapata, the student from Peru, got his hand caught and smashed in the printer.

    However, the darkest cloud that hung over them that year was a spiritual one. An impending storm, a schism was brewing.

    Shortly before the opening of the Bible Institute school year, April 8, Dad wrote that he was "in desperate need of study and prayer." He had high hopes that the Bible Institute be a center for missionary training. He referred to Grandpa Hirschy's prayer when both he and Lynn Schrock were ordained. He had prayed for "a great revival for South America, a continent that never had that blessing."

    Throughout the year, there were rumours, rumblings, sightings of a move of God--a growing interest in the ministry of the Holy Spirit who administered unexpected, undeniable miraculous gifts. A new wind blew that resulted in confusion and turmoil. The question that troubled my father in his leadership role, "Was this of God?"  

    This quandary awaited me when I arrived November 10. 

    For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts (Isaish 55:9 NKJV).