MI True Pentacost Experience

Today I learned the meaning of Pentacost. While I always knew when Pentacost rolled around each year and knew the Bible story well, I had never experienced anything like it. My last Sunday here in Romania was the perfect opportunity. This morning, we went to a baptist church in Ştei-a small village about 20 minutes from Beius. Pastor George welcomed us to his congregation of fewer than 25 people. Though they were small in numbers, they were mighty in spirit. We led them in worship, shared some testimonies, and spent time getting to know one another. At the end of the service, we recorded a video message to send to our home congregation wishing them a Happy Pentacost--in true spirit for the holiday, it was in multiple tongues.

It was also the first sunny day in a while so we arrived home to find our lunch set up outdoors. The patio is lovely-it's surrounded by flowers and bushes and a roof of grapevine allows rays of sunlight to enter without them being too hot. 

Lunching Patio

After lunch, we packed up in the vans and drove to Taşad, a small Roma town near Oreada. It was clear upon entering that we would soon witness something extraordinary. As we approached the church, we saw hundreds and hundreds of people gathering. They were overflowing the church; many clustered around the entrance and flowed into the unpaved road. Speakers were set up so that they too could hear what would soon happen within the walls of the church. As we approached the area in which we were supposed to be seated, I saw  a beautiful sight-a group of about ten Roma dressed completely in white waiting to be baptized. How they had so nicely preserved their white clothing, none of us knew; their town was dusty and literally collapsing. They sat patiently and waited for their time.

The Girl with Her Mother's Dress

They had a lot of waiting to do. The service lasted well over two hours but featured some very unique elements. The pastor of the church (also a Pastor George) spoke, a man rejoiced in the privilege to finally sing with his son (a prayer that he kept in his heart for 14 years), a Romanian senator shared his thoughts on the holiday, a worship group played Roma folk music while the congregation sang. It was a significant contrast to the quiet service we attended earlier that morning, but it was just as wonderful. 

Mass Crowd of Spectators 

After the service, there was a procession to the baptism pool. I didn't make it very far. The crowds had moved, surrounding the pool in a giant mass. I ended up spectating from the church but still had a good view. One by one, they entered the pool, held the pastors hands, and were smoothly "dipped" (as if ballroom dancing) by the pastor until they were completely submerged. Then they were pulled up from the water with such vigor that life seemed to flow right into them. Their eyes were wide with shock and each of them spent a second gasping for breath before a towel was hastily wrapped around them. Whether these looks were caused by the power of the Holy Spirit or the frigidness of the water, I'll never know. Either way, it was amazing to watch. 

We reentered the church to find that a dinner had been made for us. Before sitting down to sarmales (the Romanian national food that is not unlike a cabbage roll), stew, homemade bread, and a five-layer cake, Courtaney and I made a quick voyage to the local restroom. That in itself was a blog worthy experience but to save your sanity, I'll leave it to your imagination. 

Outhouse Adventure

  

When we got back to the clinic, we all needed a time to debrief. Several things had left an impression on me. First, the openness of the first church we attended. There was a time of prayer during which members of the congregation prayed aloud at random. It was only a small part of the service, but it was inspiring to see the ease with which they contributed. A second thing that I noticed was the diversity of those who were baptized at the second service. The young lady wearing her mother's gown appeared to be younger than I, but there was also a woman of 71 years. One of the men, I later learned, had robbed both the church and the pastor some years before. His was truly a story of grace and, as Dr. Miller said, a justification for celebration among all believers. Third was the hospitality of the Roma people. When we entered the church, they had an area reserved for us at the front of the room. When they saw that there was not enough seating for us, the family members of those to be baptized gladly moved and offered us their bench. Finally, the children of the Roma. Of all of the places we have visited so far, they were the least timid though the barriers of communication were the greatest. Unlike most of the children we've met, they spoke absolutely no English. However, we were still able to have fun together. I will never forget their smiles or their joyful eyes. 

Me, Feri, and Courtney-Marvelous View