A letter from Philip and Bacilia Beisswenger in Guatemala
Christmas 2011
Grace to you, and peace from Guatemala!
Years ago the Mayans had special traditions that reinforced their community bonds. One Q’eqchi’ ritual involved the relighting of fires. In the middle of the village sat the temple, where a perpetual fire burned inside. Fires also burned in the hearths of the people’s homes. If someone’s hearth went cold, a flame would be borrowed from a neighbor, or the temple itself, to relight it. However, on an appointed day every seven years, everybody’s fires were extinguished. After a time of enduring the darkness, families would process toward the temple. They would approach the temple altar, take fire from it, and carry it home. This ritual reminded the Q’eqchi’ people of the source of their fire and that fire shouldn’t be taken for granted.
In some comparable ways the Christian faith has customs—such as the Advent wreath—that point to the source of our light, and help rekindle our flames if they become dim or go out. We reinforce our bonds as God’s people by dramatizing the processions of Christmas Eve, when a cross section of humanity converged at the stable. Mary and Joseph were there, the angels appeared, the shepherds and magi came. No doubt the innkeeper looked in too. They represented all kinds of people—the weak and the strong, the nearby and the far away, the heavenly and the earthly. They were drawn together because the true light, which enlightens everyone, had come into the world (John 1:9).
The Spanish language term for giving birth is dar a luz, literally "to give to light." The origin of this phrase isn’t clear, but it most likely has to do with infants leaving the darkness of their mother’s wombs and entering into the brightness of a new world. In the case of Jesus’ birth, however, it’s the other way around for us. When the moment came for Mary to dar a luz, it was the world, not Jesus, that was exposed to the fullness of light.
From our family’s home on a mountainside overlooking Guatemala City we can see the city’s lights twinkling at night. While lovely, these lights are a veneer that drapes over a prevalence of violence and pollution. Guatemala’s capital, with one of the world’s highest homicide rates, is cursed with corruption in high places and organized crime in the streets. A privileged few are conspicuous in their consumption, while the majority struggles to get by against great odds. Christmas reminds us of God’s purpose to dar a luz in such places.
As for us, we keep working on partnerships between U.S. and Guatemalan Presbyterians. Philip has become involved in strengthening theological training in indigenous presbyteries. Bacilia is beginning classes to polish her English skills, to help interpret for visiting groups. Matthew and Manny are in 4th and 1st grades respectively. Stefi will start kindergarten next August. Jesi, a niece from Honduras, helps the household run smoothly. All of us enjoy playing with our dog, Katzi, which means “our dog” in Q’eqchi’. Meanwhile, Philip’s son Daniel is completing training in geospatial intelligence at Goodfellow Air Force Base in San Angelo, Texas.
We’re grateful for the PC(USA) and the prayers and support of its many congregations and members that enable us to share God’s light, and to experience it ourselves, in this country. We especially thank God and pray that the radiant beams of God’s pure light shine upon you and through you during Advent, Christmas and the New Year.
The Beisswengers—Philip, Bacilia, Matthew, Manny and Stefi
The 2011 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 286
The 2012 Presbyterian Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 6
