art in the stairwell

This e-testimony is written by Troy Terpstra, a member of the Tierra Nueva staff. Troy is currently working on a mural in the Tierra Nueva office stairwell. Below, he shares with us some of the details. Feel free to come take a look! If you would like more information, email us at info@peoplesseminary.org.

At the center of the mural is Christ. He will be tattooed, appearing to be an ex-con. Jesus is an ex-con of sorts, but the idea is inspired by drawings done by prisoners and given to the staff here at Tierra Nueva. Many prisoners feel a deep sense of shame and inadequacy when invited to know a God they have always perceived as judgmental and harsh. This portrayal of Christ as a modern day convict aims to contextualize the Gospel into our present culture. Jesus of the ghetto, Jesus of the barrio, is the Jesus of Nazareth. We want the men in the Skagit Valley Jail to know the Jesus who rolled with his society's misfits and outcasts, and who longs to be with them today. On the left, the character of Jesus embraces a young prisoner in a county jail uniform. The jail chaplaincy has been an amazingly fruitful ministry, and I am continually amazed at the stories of healing and renewal that come out of the jail every week.

On the right, Jesus has his arm around a campesina (female farm worker) who stands in the strawberry fields. She is weary and a palette of harvested fruit rests on her hips. Much of Tierra Nueva's ministry is to farm workers, who continuously move to follow the seasonal work, uprooting their families and working sun-up to sun-down for less than minimum wage. Our Family Support Center assists these people in finding housing, obtaining legal help, and in many other basic needs. I want to honestly portray the labor endured by migrant farm workers, as well as the closeness to the heart of Christ they have.

At the top of the wall, the Hands of our Abba pour out the baptism of the Holy Spirit, which is made of water and takes the shape of a dove. The waters pass through a gaping wound in the torso of the living Christ, the self-giving sacrifice of love which conquers death. Many characters, addicted, accused and accusing, rich and poor, liberated and bound up, undergo the baptismal outpouring. Chains, addiction, resentment, guilt, and death itself drown under the waters.

Coming up from the waters (the wings of the dove) two joyful worshippers emerge, a woman pounding the drums of mercy and a man blowing the horn of justice, crashing through the oppressive orderliness of the vertical prison bars and the horizontal field rows. I love the idea of the Holy Spirit breaking into prison. The prison cells sit under the night sky of a city contrasted with the field under the full sun of a summer day.

I have taken over a year to settle on the design, and I don't think I quite understood the process of mural making when I began this project, so the slowness has been very educational. I have drawn and redrawn this design several times, and God willing I am nearing the day when I will begin to paint it.

Bruce Cockburn has a line in his song 'Mystery' that goes "come all you stumblers who believe love rules – stand up and let shine." I like to think that this e-testimony is addressed to the 'stumblers who believe love rules.' Come by and check out the mural if you are in the neighborhood. Also, when the mural is completed, we are going to have an opening party, and I will be honored if any of you could be present for that.

Father, what's my role?

Part of Tierra Nueva's jail ministry is answering letters from prison, and accepting collect phone calls from inmates. A recent letter from our friend Nick S, from prison, beautifully shows in several small hand-written psalms an authentic movement of new faith in his thought process. Facing the melancholy of his situation, he then remembers how God has been with him in the worst moments. He expresses gratitude and praise, which leads him into a new approach—reaching out and asking for prayer from his community.

Nick writes:

I've been spiritually down lately. You know how I get all schizo, manic. I really want to overcome the shortcomings that keep me hostage. You and a lot of the Tierra Nueva Family really instilled some type of wisdom about God, healing, and talking with God. For that I'm truly grateful. I'm sure you get tired of hearing me say this; I feel I can't help it: Gracias! Muchas gracias for having my back thru my chaotic, insane drug addiction. Even when I was sick, someone was there! Taking me to the hospital, to detox for no reason [often it was just anxious cravings]. You loved me at my worst. Helped take care of me and my family when I was unable. Because I was too unstable. I'm praying that God shows more mercy on my health. My liver's whacked after all the drugs I've done; I'm seeing a doctor this month. Tell everyone I send my love, respect, and blessings.

The Redeemed One/Won

--

I hear the sound ringing in my ear

The devil's voice and it gettin' real near

Frustrations and Temptation I see in my rear-

View mirror smashin' down the calle a heart consumed with fear

I wish I could fly to my own little spot

Away in the islands where there's no drugs to be bought

No crimes to commit and no reason to be caught

But "No, I'm a Sureño*"—that's what I was taught

I can't stand being in this cell

I cry to Jesus but I still feel like I'm in hell

When I go to heaven

I'm gonna have one hell of a story to tell

I have faith that the Lord will prevail

He'll send his love like a piece of X-Mas mail

To the heart and to the soul!

Father tell me, What's my role?

-----------

*Sureño: translated “southsider,” largest Chicano gang on the West Coast

new grounds!

pictured: roasters Jesse, Chris, and Zach

So right now there are 3,000 pounds of green coffee beans in our basement. They're in massive burlap sacks that say "Honduras" on them, and "TIERRA NUEVA" in bold stencil. This is referring less to our ministry in Washington and more to our Tierra Nueva cooperative of organic coffee growers who have benefited from the ministry's sustainable agricultural promotion. They grew these beans.

This is a dream come true.

And it smells wonderful.

Because there is also a big shiny coffee roaster in this basement. We've been using it to roast all kinds of interesting varieties. We're learning. But after two days of experimenting, it's already tasting pretty awesome.

When I say "we," I'm talking about Zach Joy and Jesse Garcia. Over the years, if you've been getting newsletters from our ministry, you've probably heard a number of stories about these two men. Healings, reconciliations, Biblical insights. But their stories are now becoming bigger than isolated anecdotes. This coffee project is about people like them.

And Salvio Hernandez, a Mixteco migrant among us who's feeling a call to become a pastoral worker, a lover or God's, to his own context, to the handful of migrant camps in the valley and the hundreds of Oaxacan families that fill them.

Zach and Jesse have been sought out, defended, loved, accompanied through years of struggle, setback, letdowns, and spiritual growth. They are more and more radiant now as we give them responsibility.

Jesse is a natural in our Family Support Center. He grew up bi-lingual, navigating the streets, court systems, jails, state structures, migrant apartments, and substance abuse recovery. Families coming into the office are now asking, "Esta Jesse?"

Way up in Whatcom County, Zach can't help but be ministering to many men he comes into contact with after years of connections in the underground drug scene. He's ready to do this full time. And it's already becoming obvious he will be our Master Roaster with his passion and instant knack for this business and art.

Hidden underground beneath our ministry building, God is moving. Young guys I know from the gangs I work with and even new kids doing their court-appointed community service hours at Tierra Nueva, are beginning to weigh and bag the glossy espresso beans, cleaning and organizing the space, taking ownership of the operation. Which is what we want.

As churches begin to supply their coffee needs with these extremely unique and top-quality Tierra Nueva "UNDER GROUNDS," more and more lives from the streets will be blending together in our basement. Love might be happening. Community. A project and craft to be proud of. A legitimate check one day in the hands of intelligent young men who have only used their business skills to deal drugs to pay the bills for years. More people like Zach, Jesse, Salvio and Eugenio Benitez will be able to live out their callings to serve and love their people--and be supported as real staff, real mission workers.

This is just a taste of the new earth God is creating in low places among us.

-Chris Hoke

what I have, I give you!

Amy Muia
Volunteer Jail Chaplain

Did you know that Tierra Nueva also has a women's jail ministry? As part of the Skagit County Jail Ministry (a ministry of TN), volunteers visit the women inmates each week for prayer and Bible study. Lately God has been growing some beautiful fruit. I thought you might be encouraged by a recent story of God's presence touching the women in the jail.

A few weeks ago, Virginia (my ministry partner) asked the women if they felt that the Bible study and prayer were making any difference.

"Totally!" one woman responded. "When you pray for us, we can feel it for days."

"Really?" I asked. "What do you mean? What does it feel like?"

"When you lay hands on me, I can feel my whole head tingling."

"Yup," added another. "And you know what it really feels like—" She stopped, looking a bit sheepish. "It feels like getting high! Last week when you prayed for me, I was totally high. And it lasted for two days!" The women laugh. "It feels like love—you can feel the love."

I laugh with them. I guess this is the real meaning of 'do not get drunk with wine, but be filled with the Holy Spirit.' The women are feeling the love and presence of God, who is coming to visit them right where they are. They are discovering a superior kind of high—that lasts longer and is without cost.

"You can also pray for each other when we're not here," I tell them. "Just lay hands on each other and pray."

"Yeah, I guess we can," one woman says. "But you're the 'head-tingler!'"

I often feel like I don't have any resources to offer these women—I'm not the most gifted Bible teacher, and I can't fully understand the world they are coming from. But I'm reminded of Peter's words from Acts 3:6—"Silver and gold I do not have, but what I have, I give you!" It's an amazing thing to have the love of God, and be able to transfer it to another. The women continue telling stories of recent answers to prayer—a brief release to visit a dying parent, a quick and miraculous resolution in court, a feeling of unexplained peace.

Maybe today you find yourself in a place where you need a love that really satisfies—love that doesn't wear off or have negative ramifications. I just wanted to tell you that it's available right now. Lord, please bless each person reading this blog. Satisfy the deepest longings of their hearts. Show them how real you are, and fill them with your presence!