God is growing a “harvest of churches” in the rich soil of Puerto Rico
By Adam Miller
The town of Guayama, Puerto Rico, is known by locals as Pueblo de los Brujos—the city of witches. It’s a small city on the southern coast of the island between the Corozal Mountains and the Caribbean Sea, filled with people who absently celebrate its history with African witchcraft during the “Witches Carnival.”
The place is peopled by speak-easy, cheerful folk who give a nod to Catholicism and Pentecostalism, but not a lot of thought about eternal life. (“I know what I need to do,” says a taxi driver about his own spiritual state. “I just don’t do it.”)
Everyone knows the percentage of Catholics to Protestants (60/40) like they know the percentage of pro-state to pro-territory Puerto Ricans (45/45; ten percent want independence). At least one church is working to turn the stats—three-year-old Iglesia Cristo Nuestra Justicia Bautista Del Sur (Iglesia Cristo for short), a church plant of Emmanuel Baptist Church in San Isabel, a church several towns away. Jose Rivera, a member of Iglesia Cristo, was a nominal Catholic about three years ago when Pastor Lebron Santiago invited him to attend a small Bible study in his home.
“I grew up Catholic,” he says. “But it didn’t mean anything. It was just what we did. When I came to this church I felt the first day that I wanted to be saved.”
Through Pastor Santiago’s teaching and the help of others in the group, Jose began to understand the gospel for the first time. Jose now plays the congas for the praise band.
“I stopped listening to bad music and started listening to Christian music,” he says. “I stopped drinking and partying.” His family watched this life change take place and now they attend with him.
Humble beginnings
Iglesia Cristo is one of a handful of church starts sponsored by some of the longstanding Southern Baptist congregations in Puerto Rico. This indeed is nearly the only way new church starts emerge on the island. When Pastor Santiago had driven his family a number of years to Emmanuel, leaders from the church prayed with him about a church start in Guayama where there was no Southern Baptist presence.
He’d grown up Seventh Day Adventist, then spent time in Pentecostal congregations before settling in a Southern Baptist church where they felt at home. Unfortunately, it was hard to convince friends in Guayama to join them for services and Bible studies in another town. “We didn’t want to go to another church,” Pastor Santiago says. “So we started our own. We started praying and we waited,” says Pastor Santiago.
What started as a weekly Bible study in the Santiagos’ home became a new congregation.
Of the 30-50 who show up any given Sunday, about 20 have been baptized as new believers—most from a Catholic background.
“Once you have baptized someone who was a Catholic, you have them for the rest of their lives,” says Carlos Rodriguez, director of missions and evangelism for the Convention of Southern Baptists of Puerto Rico.
Awakening them to urgency
About 60 Southern Baptist churches have drawn enough interest throughout Puerto Rico to become well established in the island’s communities. A handful of those churches have helped plant new works where none existed. According to Carlos, the field is white unto harvest.
A few church leaders have caught Carlos’ vision and are awake to the opportunities in Puerto Rico. According to Carlos, while the people of the island are hardworking and industrious, the island and its churches have been somewhat lulled to sleep. Be it the constant comfortable air or the lapping of Caribbean waters, many people claim religion with little inspiration. Many Catholics—the island’s majority religion—are only so by name. This has opened the mission field for Southern Baptists. In the states, religion is perceived as a threat to freedom. In Puerto Rico, it’s as commonplace as sand.
“We can share the gospel anywhere,” says Carlos. Anywhere indeed. All a pastor has to do is ask and he can walk into a school and present the Bible’s view on sexual purity to students or hold a Bible-based workshop on stress and depression for teachers.
“If you are not experiencing salvations and baptisms, then you are not working,” Carlos says, though recognizing there are challenges. “People are open to the gospel, but the big obstacle is helping them pull up roots from the Catholic Church.”
History repeats
Carlos and his family converted from Catholicism to Christ many years ago, so he knows the danger of going to sleep among the lost. It’s his job to plant churches, assist church planting, and help build community among Southern Baptist pastors who might otherwise partition themselves off from one another and thus be caught unaware by stagnant baptismal waters.
“I see my job as bringing pastors together, helping them share the vision with one another, and accomplishing the task ahead together,” says Carlos, who recently held a meeting with several prominent metropolitan pastors. “I was encouraged. At least two of them have committed to start churches this year.”
A symphony of souls
On a Sunday morning shortly after Christmas, the two or so dozen attenders at Iglesia Cristo gather for worship. One look around the room in the upstairs of this old furniture shop would draw joyful tears from anyone who knows the history of this small congregation. Only a couple of years ago they were a hopeful and much smaller band of believers, now they are a symphony playing in tune with God’s plan for a fertile Caribbean island. The praise band stands. The guitarist hits the first note as the church rings in another year of ministry.
“This city is called The City of Witches,” says Pastor Santiago’s wife, Emily. “We want to turn it into the city of God.”
Adam Miller is associate editor of On Mission.