Gehenna: La Mosca

The Valley of Hinnom was a ravine south of Jerusalem where fires were kept burning to consume the dead bodies of animals, criminals, and refuse. Its proper name in Greek is Gehenna. We translate it into English as hell. This place, the Valley of Hinnom, is what Jesus pointed to in order to communicate to his disciples the reality of suffering of those forever alienated from God.

In the North Western corner of Santiago, the second largest city in the Dominican Republic exists the desperately impoverished community of Santa Lucia (St. Luke) popularly known as La Mosca, The Fly, on account of the enormous number of flies that thrive from the environment there. La Mosca is nestled at the base of a perpetually burning mountain of trash. When Jesus communicated the reality of hell, he would have pointed to a place just like this.

The scenic overlook of La Mosca. On top of the trash in the background there are garbage trucks with people and children lined up behind them waiting for them to drop their loads so that they can go through it looking for food, materials they can use, and items they might be able to repair. Dozers go back and forth spreading out the refuse. Hots spots fire up, burn themselves out, smoulder, and then fire again. Some days, when there has been no rain for a while, the smoke gets very heavy and saturates the entire barrio like a fog.

The people that make up the community here are among the poorest of the poor in the Dominican Republic. The perpetually burning heap serves not only as a source of income and of food for this scavenger community but also as a playground for their children. They race up and down the hillsides, often bare foot. They ride the bulldozers as they push the trash over the edges, maintaining the dump. Sometimes unsuspecting scavengers are injured and even killed by the cascading trash pushed over the hillside’s edge and sometimes even children fall prey to such accidents.

This mother and her children descended the hill side to cross the foul water in order to return to their home to sift through their findings in the trash. If you look closely you will see that the mother is wearing flip flops and the children have no shoes.

The mountain of trash is surrounded by a moat of sorts. The water at the base of the trash heap is a fermented toxic mixture of broken down trash and raw sewage. It is a poisonness brew that also allows for the breeding of the worst kinds of mosquitoes, carriers of dengue fever and likely malaria. Next to it are homes with children who play in the water as if it were a stream like one that might flow in your own back yard. Smoke often hangs in the air, leading to asthma and a variety of other respiratory illnesses. It is a place of profound suffering and despair. Disease, addiction, crime, illiteracy, and malnutrition reign supreme. La Mosca is a torment for those that live there. It is truly a place characterized by hopelessness.

Well, it was characterized by hopelessness but that character is changing little by little thanks to the efforts of a pastor courageous enough to look through the darkness of that place through the flies and the smoke with the foolishness of the Gospel in his heart envisioning the seeds of hope that might be planted and nurtured there. Thanks to the faithfulness of a supporting church in Kentucky willing to partner with his passion, Jonas de Leon has been further equipped to share the Gospel in deed as well as in word. The deed manifests itself through the provision of a fully functional feeding center able to reach out to 120 of the children in the worst need in this community, giving them six hot meals a week, education that was previously unavailable, and the hope and power of the Gospel to transform their lives and the lives of their families. Thanks to the faithfulness of Jonas, the partnership of Crestwood Baptist and the members of their congregation with his ministry the presence and influence of the ministry there is growing.

Now that we have a secure facilities to work from we are able to send more and more teams into La Mosca for medical clinics, sports and childrens' ministry, all under the auspices of Jonas' ministry. His credability is growing as is the respect and attention he receives in the community. Before the feeding center he would often have doors shut in his face. Now, on account of his care for the communitiy's children he is often received with open arms and gratitude. Suspicions are being laid aside, the Gospel is moving forward, and the Kingdom is finding expression even in the most dire circumstances. Hope has come to knock on the doors of hell, demanding to be let in. And now hope is there.

Get a Glimpse of La Mosca Here:

While in Haiti: Part II

Baptismal Procession

Saturday evening we were supposed to have baptisms but the scheduled activities went a little longer than anticipated. It was decided that we ought to wait until the next morning. Sunday we awoke and gathered outside of the Church. About 30 or so headed out as a group towards the Massacre River (the natural border between the Dominican and Haiti). We walked through the town passing houses on the left and right. The group sang hymns in Creole as we walked. Those we passed would stop and observe us on our way. A man heckled us from his house; everyone else just looked on. Some smiled at us.

What stood out to me the most as we made our 20 minute trip to the river were some of the people that passed through our cloud of witnesses as we went along. The streets were busy with activity and people were coming and going on their way to trade or hauling water, tending to the basic needs of the day. Occasionally a man or woman would pass by or fall in line with the group because we were, for that stretch of the road, headed in the same direction. Some of them would just walk silently. Others, though, would join in the song, praising along with us. So every so often a stranger would pass through revealing themselves to be brothers or sisters in Christ, offering their blessings on the occasion that brought us briefly together and offering their thanks to the Lord on account of it.

Jerry, John, and Jean Baptiste wade into the river

We arrived at the river and my dear friend and co-worker, John Martinez, waded into the water with Jean Baptiste (the associate pastor at the church) and Jerry Woodcox, a fellow Louisvillian checking out the ministry. Gathered at the waters edge, the crowd continued to sing and pray as those who were being baptized were led into the water one at a time. The first baptism went as expected. The next young lady was being baptized. Her head was about to go under when her body first went rigid and then threw itself into a violent convulsions. Jean Baptiste told John firmly to baptize her. They took her down and brought her back up as she twisted, turned, and screamed out. John and Jerry managed to hold her steady while Jean Baptiste, with one hand firmly on her shoulder and one hand raised in the air began to pray fervently over her. This went on for about a minute and a half. Suddenly, the young lady became calm and came to her senses. The spirit that oppressed her was expelled. I glanced around at my Haitian peers at the rivers’ edge while all of this went on and no one looked surprised or amazed. They went on singing and praying as if nothing out of the ordinary was taking place. Of course much of their prayer and singing were on account of and in response to what was taking place. Another victim of the spiritual oppression that grips much of Haiti was released in our presence and was now free to worship God.

A young woman desiring to be baptized resists out of spiritual oppression and influence

Jean Baptiste (John the Baptist) prays over the young woman and against the spirit that burdens her

That baptism was followed by another young lady, who when she was submerged, went totally limp like a corpse. It took all three men to get her up on her feet. She stood upright in their arms like a dead person being held up. Again, Jean Baptiste assumed his previous posture and began to call out to the Lord to free this woman of her oppressor. Moments went by; again, the songs and prayers continued without a pause; she came to. Jean Baptiste shouted praises and exaltations and the young lady returned to the riverbank, cleansed anew.

Another young woman is oppressed by a spirt at the moment of her baptism

Jean Baptiste prays over her as well until the spirit leaves

The other baptisms took place without incident, as we would expect here in the West. Each of the newly baptized Christians was offered new clothes, dresses for the women, shirts and slacks for the men. A make shift changing room was made there on the bank with a few people of their respective genders holding up sheets as curtains for each of new brothers and sisters.

Christians pray on the river's edge during the baptisms

We walked back in song and prepared for church.

I had the opportunity to speak with Jean Baptiste later that day. I asked if this head ever happened to him before. For him, it had been the first time and it had taken him a little bit by surprise. When he discovered what was happening, however, he knew just what to do. He told me that this sort of thing happened all of the time in the communities in the interior of Haiti, especially the rural areas, but this was the first time it happened in his presence in Quanamenthe. He thought that the spirit is the first woman was so strong due to her grandfather being a Voodoo priest. He said that it was not uncommon for families so closely related to servants of Voodoo to have similar experiences when they attempt to forsake the gods of their fathers.

Young observers watch us pass by

Again, we bump up against a culture and an understanding of the world that is far different from our own. Those in Haiti caught up in the powers of spirituality characterized by Voodoo know about spiritual power. They attempt to manipulate it; they fear it; they recognize it when they see it. When they encounter Christians who know the True Spirit, who know the One in whom true power resides they come to recognize a Power that they can not manipulate, a Power that frustrates their own fallen intentions, a Power that seeks them out. Haitians know and believe in the spiritual world; it’s just that many of them are unfamiliar with Jesus. But when they are confronted by him they discover that even the spirits they serve bow before him, as ultimately we all must, and they begin to pay closer attention to this Jesus often surrendering their lives to him. They discover that his yoke easy and his burden light, a stark contrast from their former spiritual masters.

While in Haiti: Part I

Jeff and Harold Mckee, an elder from Morgantown Community Church

at the Dominican/Haitian Frontier

From December 8th to the 12th I had the opportunity to facilitate an excursion trip to the Dominican Republic and Haiti. Of the seven visitors, three were from a youth ministry that supported a Haitian pastor we work with, two were from Louisville trying to decide as to what capacity they were going to come alongside of the work we are doing, and two were from a church in Morgantown, Kentucky who are considering partnering with G.O. and Vicki and I.

We had a four day tour of the ministry. Friday we landed. Saturday we drove from Santiago to the Dominican/Haitian frontier and crossed over. We made the 40 minute walk from the border into Quanamenthe, Haiti. This was the first time four of our visitors had ever been to Haiti. It appeared to them to be a wholly different world. They are right.





There were at least 2000 people gathered in the church yard,
surrounding streets and roof tops for the conference in Haiti.

We were in Haiti to celebrate a conference taking place at a church in Quanamenthe. Saturday evening was dedicated to worship and the testimony of a former voodoo sorcerer who had been transformed by the gospel. His charismatic presentation of his life practicing the dark arts and his eventual conversion captivated and entertained the audience. We American observers knew very little of what was being said, though it was clear that the Spirit was present and moving. Testimonies like this in Haiti are significant.

In Haiti it has been said that the population is 90% Catholic and 100% Voodoo. Voodoo is the spiritual heritage of the Haitian people. It is a part of the landscape of their history and lineage; it pervades Haitian culture and is an unquestioned power, except for those surrendered to the Lordship of Christ.

Sunday morning we were the audience for another former voodoo priest who had become a Christian. He was at the celebration but did not share his testimony this time. He had spoken at a previous gathering. He told us his story through Romano who served as our translator. I do not pretend to understand all that he said and all that it meant but I will reproduce it for you hear as best my memory can serve. This is Emmanuel’s story:

“When I was a boy of nine years old, a special secret was imparted to me by my father (as I was his favorite). I did not choose this life for myself; it was given to me. My father told me that he wanted to share a secret with me and that I could tell no one about it. He was a witchdoctor and was late in years. He took me to his hut when no one else was around and got a stick out of a special box that had been hidden. He poked me in the arm with it. It didn’t hurt but I did feel a burning sensation in my arm that lasted for some time. Three days later my father died.

I went back later to his hut and among his belongings found a little book with many pages on it. On the first page was a picture of a rat, in fact on every page there were pictures of animals that could be found on earth with different words arranged under each of them. The words described how one could transform one’s self into the creature on each page. That night I did what the book said under the entry pertaining to the rat and I became one myself. With my transformation complete I began to understand the nature of this secret shared with me by my father. I wondered through the village unnoticed. Later, I reversed the transformation and returned to my human form. These newly developing skills would prove to be very useful to my new occupation.

And so I grew to be a man. By early adulthood I was already a very powerful voodoo sorcerer. The spirits I served compensated me well with material goods and status. This was my number one reason for refusing the Gospel when Christians would attempt to share it with me. I would mock them and say things like, “You say you serve this Jesus but you have nothing! Why would I want to be like that?! Why would I want to be like you? My spirits give me power and wealth and I do as I please. Who is this Jesus?!”

I was feared and respected and many did my bidding out of fear of death (except for Christians). I have, with my powers and abilities, killed many, many people who have angered me or gotten in the way of what I have wanted.

But I can remember two occasions when my will was broken against those who served the Gospel above all else…

The first was a Haitian pastor who was preaching at a conference in the community much like the one we had last night. As he preached he condemned the practices related to voodoo and denounced the priests and sorcerers. I was offended and angered by what he said and made up my mind that I was going to kill him.

I hid out near his home for a few days to get a feel for his comings and goings. He had a red truck that he would sometimes drive to get to another community. I decided to go and wait for him to take his next trip and when he would come, I would ambush him. A few days more went buy and I heard a truck coming down the road. I had my preparations ready for him. But when the driver came close enough to identify I saw that it was an elderly man and not the pastor I was waiting for. I let him pass.

Several days more went past and I saw the pastor walking down the road towards me. I used my powers to turn him into a cow and I threw a rope around his neck. I had him! I began to whip him again and again and again. I continued this from day until late into the night, punishing him for his slander. I made up my mind to kill him but did not wish to kill him as a cow but as a man so I turned him back… only to discover that it was not the pastor that I had transformed or beaten but it was one of my friends. I did not then understand what had happened because of my spiritual blindness. Later, I would figure it out.

The second confrontation with a Christ follower had to do with a young woman who lived in my community who was all the time trying to convert me. I was amazed by her attitude because she had no fear of me what-so-ever. She persisted in harassing me until I finally decided that I would rid myself of her annoying presence. I made up my mind to kill her. One night when I knew she was away from the village in the wilderness I turned myself into a dragon. I flew through the air and discovered her in an open area. I was about to swoop down on her when I felt the wind change. Suddenly I was oppressed by a fierce blast of wind and I could barely fly against. Then, out of nowhere, a bright creature with white wings flew quickly past me and knocked me out of the air to the ground. I have a scare on my ankle from where I crashed to the ground.

I lay there alone in the woods. I felt as though I were dying. I cried out to all of the loa (voodoo spirits) that I had served my whole life and no one would come to help me. I was terrified and began to cry thinking that I would die. I began to pray to Jesus, this Jesus I did not know but had heard about, I began to understand that he was more powerful than the spirits I served and that if he wanted he could help me, he could save me. I cried out to him for help…

The next morning I awoke in my own bed, not remembering how I came to be there. And from that day to this I have served only Christ and testified against voodoo in his name. My spiritual blindness has given way to sight.”

Now, I have not made any of this up. I have heard dozens of other stories like it from other former voodoo priests though only second hand. This was the first I heard recounted in person. As he told his story I watched the Americans around me struggle to make sense of what this man was saying… “you turned yourself into a rat, a friend into a cow, yourself into a dragon… What?!” At the same time I watched the Haitians absorb the story like you might absorb the reading of a grocery list or a sports page or any other typical expression of your everyday life and culture. This account, however baffling to us is typical of everyday Haitian experience and they are not the least bit taken back by it.

Though the details of this story are different from the details of our own stories the heart of it is the same. It impressed me that Emmanuel rejected the Gospel primarily because the people who followed Jesus appeared to be so weak and poor. From his perspective they had nothing to show for it and were fooling themselves. Because for so long Emmanuel had been his own lord of sorts he had no way of conceiving what it might look like to live under the Lordship of Christ until his own idolatry had been exposed for what it was. This exposure revealed the truth of his own situation, his own weakness, poverty, and emptiness. And he came to serve the real Lord on account of it.

I don’t know what you may make of all the stories in Haiti about voodoo, loa, sorcerers, possession, etc. I’m not sure what I make of it. It is clear that certain powers are at work there. One might think that such beliefs are primitive and superstitious, and those are easy assumptions to make when you come from a culture that is technologically advanced, bearing a scientifically weighted worldview. But in North America we serve our own loa. The unquestioned reality of voodoo in Haiti is mirrored in our own culture by the unquestioned reality of materialism. Emmanuel served the loa, we are tempted to serve our automobiles, our bigger houses, our boats, our stuff. We cover over it and say such service is for the benefit of our families but at the heart of it, it is about us, our egos, our own pretended lordship over our lives. Emmanuel was constructing his own kingdom at the expense of others. We, as a culture, are guilty of doing much the same. We fail to question it and it oppresses us without our knowledge just as Emmanuel was oppressed by his own spiritual blindness. The methods in Haiti and the U.S. are different but the functions are much the same.

Once Emmanuel came to Christ he burned all of his belongings he had gained through his dabbling with the loa. He offered them up as a sacrifice to Christ. Afterwards, he began to reach out to some of his fellow voodoo priests. Some responded in his old fashion, “Why would I serve your Christ? Look at you; you have nothing…” One in particular responded, “Once I have secured a few more comforts I will turn and follow, perhaps…” Emmanuel told us that he received a message the previous night at the conference that this man had died that same night. The spirits are different but the function is the same.

The arrogance and foolishness of our own kingdoms is everywhere being frustrated. It is only a matter of time before the coming Kingdom invades our own superficial borders to confront us with the truth and power of Christ’s Lordship. For many of us who have by his grace already been annexed into the Kingdom this is cause for great celebration for others, cause for fear, but only, by his grace until they discover that they are only squatters, not lords and that the Lord of all has for them a much better habitation than they could have ever previously imagined. Amen.