Bienvenido, somos una iglesia bilingüe. Quizás seamos una iglesia exactamente como la que usted buscaba.
Welcome, we are a bilingual church. We just might be a church that is exactly like what you have been looking for.
¿Por qué no se pasea por nuestro sitio web? Y si quiere, déjenos un comentario.
Why don’t you tour our website? And if you’d like, leave us a comment.
Una amiga dijo recientemente: “Desde que llegué a los Estados Unidos, este es el único lugar donde me he sentido en casa.”
A friend said recently, “Since coming to America, this is the only place I’ve felt at home.”
Como decíamos: “¡BIENVENIDO!”
As we were saying, “WELCOME!”
With all the anti-Islamic rhetoric out there since the April, 2013 Boston Marathon bombings, I would like to begin with a quote from Ed Stetzer who wrote, “I want ALL to know Jesus – Muslims too. So, Christians remember, you can’t hate a people and reach a people at the same time.”
Iglesia Bautista El Buen Pastor was constituted in 1969 in its original location at 1601 Illinois Street in a residential neighborhood on the north side of Lansing. The church sold its small building and moved into it’s present location on the south side in 1993.
Nationalities represented currently are Mexicans, Guatemalans, “Texans,” Michiganders, Colombians, Cubans and Hondurans.
In the beginning services were entirely in Spanish led by Rev. Reta, the founding pastor. Later, Rev. Juan Macías served from 1970 – 1979. He was followed by Rev. Reynaldo Powell, and then Darryl Hodge, an Anglo, served as interim for an undetermined time, followed by John Torrez and then Juan Holguin who pastored Good Shepherd from 1989–2008. Buen Pastor has been without a pastor until January,2013 when Pastor Carlos Liese came on the field as the Senior Pastor.
My mother’s shadow clung to the pre-dawn darkness as she slipped back into the commune with a chicken she had bought at the market under her arm. We were vegetarians and I was eight years old. Years later she would say that her son needed protein. She knew something was just not right when members of the “priory” began taking turns to supposedly regress to previous lives or channel communicating with a cosmic brotherhood. This was New Age on steroids before anybody used the term.
My family had moved from Texas, where I was born, to live with 14 other families in a town in the jungles of Peru. When the commune we lived in for nine months broke up, Dad bought a house and sent me to school. I think the only word I knew in Spanish was frazada – blanket. Since everybody at school seemed to want a locket of my bright red hair for a souvenir, it didn’t take me long to become a fourth grade drop-out. And that was when my folks asked my mother’s mother to come and home-school me. Granny came and brought more than books. She brought the Gospel to our home.
After two years in the jungle, we moved to Lima where I started going to a local school. Granny continued to live with us. She witnessed to my family and prayed and fasted for our salvation. I remember she would fast three days a week. My Dad thought it was ridiculous. She would tell him how wrong it was to think that there were monks in Tibet with a third eye and that reincarnation was nothing more than a devil’s lie. He would get mad, and when he would insult and humiliate her she would retreat to her room in tears, pray all night and come out the next morning as fearless as a tiger. Oh, how I thank God for her.
After a year in Lima, we moved to Chaclacayo where Dad set up a landscaping and greenhouse business. During those early years a fear of dying hounded me everywhere I went. I knew that if I died I would fall through the floor right into the fire. When I was thirteen, my folks had gone somewhere and I asked Granny if I could go into her bedroom and pray. I remember kneeling at her bed and asking God to forgive my sins. I told Him that I believed that Jesus died on the cross for me and I asked Christ to come into my heart and be my Savior.
I didn’t know what to expect when I prayed that prayer. How could I? I had never done anything like that before. Suddenly, I started to cry. Then I felt so unbelievably happy that I began to laugh. I don’t know how long I cried and laughed, but since it scared me a little, I came out and asked my Grandmother what was wrong with me. She assured me with a simple, “It’s the Holy Spirit. It’s alright.” And I have not been afraid to die since.
I wanted all there was of God and He gave me all there is of Himself. Eventually my Dad came to the Lord too.
When we came back to the States, I transferred to Texas A&M University where my best friend’s dad called me a red headed Mexican because I spoke English with a slight accent. The second best thing of my life happened to me at the Baptist Student Center. I met Donna. I had never met anyone like her and asked her to marry me on our third date. She suggested we pray about it and I thought, “What a novel concept!”
We were married, I graduated, was commissioned into the Army, got called into the ministry, went to seminary, pastored Hispanic missions and churches for 35 years and came on board here at our Baptist State Convention of Michigan in 2009. And here we are now, closing another chapter as we prepare to transition out of my Language Ministry Leader position to become the pastor of Iglesia Bautista El Buen Pastor in Lansing. Indeed, we really do serve a great Lord.