Baptized into the Church of Asuncion

Baptized into the Church of Asuncion

By Bobby Neal Winters

Yesterday, I went to the movies .  I saw the Joker, Part 2 with Joaquin Phoenix and Lady Gaga. It was playing in the Paseo La Galeria mall in Asuncion. This is the ritzy-est mall I’ve ever been in, for what that worth.

I went totally unprepared. I’d not read anything about it, though I had seen the movie that it follows. Joaquin Phoenix is one of the best American actors of his time so I thought it would be worth it.  

For me it was. I, however, sometimes have a rather strange taste in movies.  I’d not expected Joker II to be a musical.  But it is: a good one.  I’ve not followed the work of Lady Gaga, nor do I plan to, but she has a good voice which can shape emotion.

I’d not expected it to have a compelling love story.  But it does: a strange, twisted one. 

I’d not expected so much Jungian imagery.  But I got it: from the very first.

It is the story of broken people in a corrupt society. The corrupt society breaks people.  The corrupt society distorts any means by which those people can be healed.  The refuse of that society believes they have found someone who embodies their brokenness and who can extract vengeance for them.  When that fails, well, you won’t be surprised.  Or maybe you will: I was.

It is one of those I don’t want to take responsibility for advising you to see, but it did give me a lot to think about. 

Today, I went to church. Saint Andrew’s Chapel, an Anglican Church, on the north side of Avenida Espana just to the west of where it crosses Avenida Maximo Santos.  I’d made a failed attempt last week. This week I regrouped.  I knew exactly where it was; I got on google maps to mark my path out.

Then I woke up to the sound of thunder this morning.

They have been needing rain here.  There have been fires in the Chaco, and the smoke from them has been coming into the city.  While there have been cool days with clouds, there’s been no rain.

It had begun to rain what I called an “8-inch” rain in that the drops were hitting on the sidewalk 8 inches apart.  I thought about walking, then I thought about going into a church sopping wet, so I decided to take an Uber.

The rain remained more speculative than real as we drove along.  I could have walked it.  I vowed that I would walk back.

I was the first one there.  I minister--Donald--was setting up the altar.  He saw me and came back to greet me. We chatted.

The congregants began to trickle in.  There were so few even trickle is too generous a word. More than 20, fewer than 25.  All sizes; all shapes; all economic conditions.  Three Americans; three South Africans.

Broken people from a corrupt society. Just like anywhere.

Music consisted of one man with a guitar who led us in hymns. A sincere voice that kept the focus where it should be. There was a sermon that the Apostle Paul could’ve given, in the sense there was nothing novel in it: Repent and God will forgive you because He loves you.

The usual prayers; communion; going forth; then lemonade and cookies. 

My heart felt light and was strangely warmed.  I began my walk home.

There were drops of rain here and there.

I stopped at a grocery store and bought some oranges so I could have a little plastic bag to put my phone in.  Just in case.  The store didn’t sell umbrellas just to let you know.

While I was in the store the rumor of rain had become the real thing.  

I pressed on.

While storm sewers are not unknown in Asuncion, their system is not, shall we say, fully developed.  As a consequence of this, the streets were beginning to run like rivers. Little rivers, but rivers nonetheless.

I pressed on.

I came to an intersection with a very busy street.  Direct across from me, I saw a graffito scrawled on a wall: “Sonria, Cristo te ama.” Smile, Christ loves you.  Above this heartfelt scrawl was a video billboard that was 30 feet wide and 40 feet tall. In flashy, dynamic fashion it was offering all of the joys of a commercial society.  All of this can be yours if you bow down to worship me.

I was standing there, waiting for the light to change with this running through my head when a city bus came by and hit one of the rivers flowing down the street dead-on, and I was baptized in the church of the city of Asuncion.

They believe in full-immersion.

The rain never got any lighter.  I made it home and changed into dry clothes.

It’s been a good day.

Bobby Winters, a native of Harden City, Oklahoma, blogs at redneckmath.blogspot.com and okieinexile.blogspot.com. He invites you to “like” the National Association of Lawn Mowers on Facebook. Search for him by name on YouTube.