Rev. Dr. Wilton Mons Nelson produced the first Bible Dictionary completely written in Spanish in Latin America. He was a popular seminary professor, and eventually dean of the largest Protestant seminary in Latin America. I knew him as Grandpa.

If nothing else, my Grandpa was disciplined. Down to the half-hour every day. On Saturdays, his routine called for a hike. He loved to walk. It was his way of recharging. He welcomed company on those walks but did not seek it. I think he walked all the hills of the Central Valley of Costa Rica.

I don’t like to walk because of him. I like to walk like him. I like walking probably for the same reasons -– to recharge, to exercise (since I can’t run anymore), to see new places. And today, I started the hike of a lifetime, the Camino de Santiago. I would have loved to have done this walk with Janice, but her knees don’t allow it. I would have loved to walk it with my boys or my brother. I would really have loved to walk it with my Dad. That would have been incredible. But today, I spent the day walking with my Grandpa.

I thought a lot about him today…of the size of the gifts that he gave the Protestant church in Costa Rica specifically, and to Latin America generally. I thought about his passions (walking being one of them.)  He got a doctorate in Church History. His dissertation became a book on the History of Protestantism in Costa Rica, a regular original source on the subject today. He was a professor at heart, but a pastor when called upon; his goal was to grow the Kingdom of God by equipping pastors. What I would give to have been able to take one of his classes and to visit with him about it on one of his Caminos! He would have LOVED to walk Spain as I am doing. LOVED it!

And I would have loved to walk with him and ask him questions. Questions about the church, questions about his recollection of people he knew but are now part of the cloud of witnesses that he is now part of. Ask him about my Dad…what he thought of my Mom when he first met her…what he thought of me, for that matter, in those days when I could (and did a couple of times) go hiking with him up the hills of San Jose.

I have always loved 2 Timothy 1:5 which says: “I am reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and, I am persuaded, now lives in you also.”  Both my grandmothers were Christians, and so was my Mom. But when I read that verse, I think of my grandfather Wilton and my dad Pete, because I am persuaded by the faith that first lived in them now lives in me. And all I hope for is a generation or two down from me saying the same thing someday.

I also really like the 2 Timothy verse because it indicates that Paul first knew the ladies before he met the son/grandson. It’s really cool to hear from somebody who knew your grandparents and parents. That happens less and less to me now.

Yes, part of the conversation I had with my Grandpa today was about the fact that I am now the eldest Nelson. I’m not sure what that means, but it does mean I am now more Lois than Timothy, even though when I first read 2 Timothy I sure identified with him!

The lesson here really is about Lois and Eunice. They impressed Paul; they must have ministered with him and helped in the Kingdom in some way that warranted him praising them in his encouragement to Timothy. I want to lead my life in such a way that others get that impression—that they see the reality of my faith in, and love of, God. We all should.

What impression DO people get when they get to know you?

Ready for Day 2,

Craig

Guard the good deposit that was entrusted to you—
guard it with the help of the Holy Spirit who lives in us. 2 Timothy 1:14 (NIV)

As Protestants, we are not sure about pilgrimages. I am one of the unsure. Growing up in Costa Rica, I saw tens of thousands of people taking a yearly pilgrimage from (at least) San Jose, where I lived, to a town called Cartago. I knew from history class that Cartago used to be the capital city of Costa Rica, and that the most famous church in Costa Rica was there, not because of the old capital city status, but because of a miracle that people claim happened there.

               The story goes that in 1635, yes, almost 300 years ago, a little girl of mixed race (and that part of the story is significant) found a little statue of the Virgin Mary holding her baby Jesus next to a spring in the woods. The girl took it home. The next morning, it was gone- it had found its way back to the spring. The girl took it back home again. The next morning, same thing, the statue was back at the spring. It happened three times. So, the adults decided a miracle had happened, built a little shrine, and people have been flocking to it ever since.

               If you go there, the site where the spring comes up is understood to be a source of holy water. If you go and see the statue, you see an enormous collection of little amulets of body parts. Bordering on the macabre, they are offerings commemorating healings from the holy water.

               I grew up taking people there, both as a kid with my parents, and later on as a guide. It was on the way to a volcano and made for a good stop along the way. My parents, and Protestants in general, panned the veracity of it all. The Rosario (as the pilgrimage is called) was viewed skeptically as a devotion to Mary (instead of Jesus) and the pursuit of superstition (that that water had magic powers.)

               And having said all that, today, after church, I am headed to the mother of all pilgrimages, the Camino de Santiago. (OK, it’s second to Jerusalem, but you don’t walk in Israel. You just go up and down the stairs of a bus.)  What’s up with that? What am I doing? I lend no credence that the bones of St. James can be found inside the cathedral there. And I don’t carry any expectation that arriving there for Mass will cure what ails me.

               For me, the walk is the pilgrimage. Maybe I’ve been influenced too much by John Bunyon. He wrote Pilgrim’s Progress. As he described the character Christian’s pilgrimage, that long walk was just life. Life is a long hike in which we aim for heaven. There are pitfalls all along the way. There are trials, temptations, and distractions. (The biggest concerns I carry in Spain are weather and my legs handling it.) Perseverance, as we see in the book of James, is a most valued lesson through all the trials of life. I covet your prayers.

I think we are all pilgrims. Not to Cartago, or Fatima, or Lourdes, or the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. No. To heaven. For some the walk is longer than it is for others. We miss those who have arrived before us. Some of us take more circuitous routes than others to get there. But all of us are on the Camino. Not to a little hamlet in Spain, but to a place where we delightfully meet our Maker.

So, grab your walking stick, put on your boots, and let’s go! The aid stations are many. You are in one this morning. The fellow pilgrims are many, too. The fact that the little statue of Mary appeared to a mixed-race girl in the jungle has meant, for Costa Ricans, that the miracles of God are for everybody, not just the elites (or the Spanish, specifically in those times.)  I like that. God’s grace is for every pilgrim.

Are you ready?

Craig

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work
so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. James 1:2-4 (NIV)