sal y luz

Sal y luz is the name of the women’s ministry in the City of God church in Chichigalpa pastored by a dynamic young couple named David and Judith. Salt and light are much needed in this sugar and rum producing area of northwestern Nicaragua.

Although the Ingenio San Antonio (the local sugar mill, founded in 1898, run by one of the most powerful families in Nicaragua) provides jobs to a large percentage of the people in the area, these positions are mostly seasonal. In addition, the mill has been publicly criticized for its poor working conditions, which have caused numerous health problems in the area over the years. According to various associations of former plant workers, more than 2,000 people have died from chronic renal failure, while thousands more continue suffering from exposure to and intake of contaminated water caused by the pesticides used in the sugar fields. Judith tells me that she only drinks purified water now, because she was diagnosed with the disease several years ago.

In addition to its complicated health situation, Chichigalpa struggles in other ways.

(1) Many of the neighborhoods—even older ones—do not have paved roads. There is just no money.

(2) The local health center is just now constructing a pregnancy ward so that women do not have to travel 30-45 minutes to Chinandega or Leon to give birth—but where the equipment for the building will come from is still up in the air.

(3) The community has a volunteer-only fire department with 50 year old vehicles and insufficient resources to even feed the firemen lunch. Pastor David, who has developed a strong relationship with the Chief, went to local businesspeople and asked for donations. Through his efforts, not only do the firemen not have to worry about food, they have also received a computer from his church, which they now use in their office.

Both the fire chief and the Mayor are now good friends with David and Judith, thanks to their wonderful community oriented mindset. But not everyone is on board with their vision. “The other churches here say it’s locura (crazy),” Judith tells me.

For example, Friday night (a traditional night for evangelical church services here), Judith was invited to speak at a public celebration for International Women’s Day in the community’s central park. The event, organized by the mayor’s office, was attended by many students, community members, and a large delegation from David and Judith’s church (the only one present), many proudly wearing shirts that said, “La violencia contra la mujer es contra la imagen de Dios” (Violence against women is violence against the image of God.) Judith gave a compelling (and well received) biblically based message about the value of women in the eyes of Christ, after which she led us in a candle-light only minute of silence in honor of all the women who have died due to violence.

Yes, I thought to myself, as I stared at the flickering flame in Judith's hand, this is what Jesus meant when He called the church to be sal y luz.