"Silent night, holy night / all is calm, all is bright." Christmas comes subtly before us permeating our lives each year, just as God does in Buenos Aires every day.
“¿Quién es Dios?” That is the question my host father rhetorically asks before spinning me into a tangent around the politics of religion or more specifically, “the problem of God.” As I sat adjacent to him unable to adequately express my feelings around my biggest conviction, I began to think deeply about his question. Who is God, and do any of us really know? I mean, this was the very reason I so adamantly decided to study abroad. Not only to experience a new culture, language, and people, but also to seek out my connection with God. And I did just that as I realized that he is always in the details.
Argentina is a country that is overwhelmingly Christian, with 90 percent of the population identifying as Roman Catholic. Pope Francis, an Argentinian, holds the Catholic Church’s highest position, and Argentina’s pre-1994 constitution required that the people holding the highest governmental positions be Catholic. However, it is highly apparent that, within the confines of the bustling city of Buenos Aires, just like la negrita, Dios is in the shadows. I started searching for him almost immediately after walking onto Argentine soil, but that was more difficult than I thought. Those around me weren’t openly affiliated with any faith practices, and the Protestant churches I encountered were overly flashy, so I began to look inward and focused on daily readings, music, and discipleship from home. I spent time traveling, exploring nature, making friends, and trying out new activities and foods in between the stresses of class.
But in late September, his light flickered in the city. My host parents, one of whom is atheist and the other agnostic, took the time to help me find churches and would engage me in conversation about my experiences, despite our differing beliefs. While at times challenging, our conversations were always refreshing because we all experienced new perspectives. In addition, two friends from my program and I began visiting various churches.
I found myself in a medium-size room with fans and spritzers all around me to combat the heat. The minister lifted his hands, “Gloria a Dios,” the congregation joining in, the heat never fazing them nor deterring their praise. After the service, I was immediately welcomed with hugs, kisses, and benediciones. They didn’t know me, but the congregants welcomed and checked in on me during the week. Every church I have attended since arriving in Argentina made me feel at home. From the people, to the atmosphere and the familiarity of worship, I had rediscovered by relationship with God. I had witnessed his true immensity and omniscience.
God is a spirit that governs and watches over everyday life. For me, he is the end all, be all. He is my breath when I awake and my lullaby, as I fall asleep. But God transforms for all. He doesn’t have to be seen if it is not wanted, but when one “seeks, one shall find.” He is observed every Sunday morning in the quiet of the streets, as all stores are closed. He is the love that my coordinators show each student. He is the sign of the cross that I notice the children, men, and women doing when they board the buses. He is the kissing and bowing to the Virgin Mary at the subway stations. He is the smile of the guard I pass every morning on my way to my study center. He is the comfort my friends and I find in talking to one another about our post-abroad lives. He is the forgotten pamphlet wedged on the subway train wall, “Dios es el único que puede llenar tú. Él es tu paz.” He is in the rushing waters of Iguazu Falls and the foggy mountain where Christ the Redeemer stands, arms stretched wide, gazing over Rio de Janeiro; I saw him as I watched the sun gently kiss the ice caps of the Andes mountains separating Chile and Argentina. He is my four-year-old host brother’s energy and laughs. He is the passionate dinnertime conversation I will miss. He is the way the rain gently beats on the rooftop, as the trees slightly sway in the wind outside of my window. He is El Señor.
When one seeks, one shall find. God is in the details.
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