Epic Dispatches

When we arrived in Bolivia three months after leaving Indianapolis and having traveled through 12 Latin American countries, I asked Ben and Molly this question: “If you had the chance to return to any place we visited on this trip, which one would you choose first?”

Without hesitation they both said, “Why, Mexico, for sure.”

The primary reason for their selection, they said, was the food.

You cannot go to Mexico and not eat tacos, of course. Taquerías are everywhere, offering infinite varieties and variations of this staple of the Mexican diet. We attempted to try them all, which admittedly would take several lifetimes.

Mexicans eat tacos al alambre, tacos al pastor, tacos de carnitas, de bistec, de cabeza, de milanesa, de camarrón, de pescado . . . well, you get the picture. Pardon the Spanish names, but these tacos really have no equivalent in English.

I should point out that I have never eaten a taco in Mexico made with hamburger meat and iceberg lettuce, primary ingredients of Tex-Mex tacos common in the U.S. Perhaps this explains why Mexicans and gringos seldom see eye-to-eye on so many other issues.

This is not to say that tacos are the only thing you will find on the menu in Mexico. It is said that the country boasts of more than one thousand national dishes, no two alike. Every city and region claims its particular specialty.

For example, one of Monterrey’s finest restaurants is famous for goat, and offers little else to its upscale clientele. Five-star hotels in Acapulco feature lavish breakfast buffets complete with highly skilled omelet chefs, all included in the price of your overnight accommodation.

A friend in Saltillo treated us to mouth-watering borrego al ataud, lamb slow-roasted in a wooden box served simply with chili relish, the one vegetable consistently served with Mexican meals, and soft corn tortillas.

Should you tire of tortillas, you can always shop one of Mexico City’s self-service French bakeries and take home an assortment of breads from among the dozens of warm and delectable selections continuously rolling out of the ovens.

You must try one example of genuine Mexican ambrosia, the Enchilada En Nogada. A roasted poblano chili is stuffed with a blend of chopped meat, pecans, apples and dried fruit, and smothered in creamy pecan gravy. Pomegranate seeds and cilantro are sprinkled atop the enchilada to represent the colors of the Mexican flag.

Not only is it delicious, but patriotic as well. Enchilada En Nogada is purportedly the specialty of Puebla. Nevertheless, I recommend you experience this dish wherever and whenever you come across it, which is typically in the month of September when Mexico celebrates its independence.

I wrote in an earlier blog about Mexico’s warm and friendly hospitality, and I suspect that was the second reason Ben and Molly wanted to return. In fact, I suspect the food in Mexico is exceptionally delicious because of the congenial surroundings in which it is served.

No place have I experienced more warm and friendly hospitality than in Monte Maria, a Mexico City neighborhood whose name literally translates as “Mount Mary.” It is home to a charismatic megachurch with a fascinating history. An elder told me the story once on a drive from the airport to the congregation’s guest house in Mount Mary. Some highpoints:

On April 25, 1979, Roman Catholic priest Aurelio Gomez Velazquez was attending a conference when he heard for the first time that God is love. The revelation stunned him. His religious training to that point had painted God as strict, stern, judgmental, even vengeful. Never had Gomez considered that God loved him.

“I prayed to God in the mighty name of Jesus and was born again,” the priest said. “His spirit came upon me as in the Upper Room.”

Gomez accepted water baptism and began to talk to his congregation about what he called his transformation to a new life. His parishioners noticed an unmistakable change in their priest and a powerful quality to his preaching. Many repented and experienced God’s love and forgiveness themselves.

One day Gomez invited them to join him to pray for the sick in what he called an Assembly of Health. Seventeen persons attended the first assembly held in a small chapel of the Alamedas Catholic Church. A few experienced healings and told friends and family about the miracles. Word got around. Soon, hundreds of sick people inundated the streets of the affluent Alamedas borough. The municipal council asked Gomez to move the Assembly of Health to a different venue.

So in 1982, Gomez led what he called “the exodus to the Mount." The congregation began worshipping outdoors on 7.5 acres in the Mount Mary neighborhood. So many people came to hear Gomez preach, they soon filled up the space.

The priest then found a 250-acre tract known as El Nogal in the cool, arid mountains northwest of the city. Gomez began organizing outdoor prayer, praise and healing meetings there. These events attracted crowds estimated at 200,000. “The field at El Nogal was one of the great experiences of faith,” Gomez said.

Gomez’s activities eventually sparked backlash from his superiors. Bishops noted that Monte Maria Church had dispensed with images and confession booths. In place of the Eucharist, Sunday worship consisted of praise music, prayer and Bible preaching.

His presiding bishop finally delivered a three-point ultimatum to Gomez. If he wanted to remain a priest, he was to rename Monte Maria Church "Our Lady of Health", turn over El Nogal to the diocese, and sever all fellowship with Protestant Christians. Gomez declined, effectively renouncing his priestly office. He did it, he said, "In the full possession of my mental, intellectual and moral faculties, and in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ."

When Gomez announced to his congregation that he no longer belonged to the Catholic Church, attendance dropped precipitously. Only about 500 worshippers showed up the following Sunday, leaving thousands of unfilled seats in the outdoor esplanade. Monte Maria Church would have to rebuild.

One day Gomez encountered a man who would help do that in Mexico City’s central market. An American missionary named Robert Stevenson was expounding the Bible to passersby. Gomez was attracted to the fellow’s passionate preaching and asked Stevenson if he would come work with him at Monte Maria. The young American agreed.

Stevenson’s path to Mexico had begun some years before in a U.S. prison. He once mentioned to me why he was in jail, but I can’t remember the details. Anyway they are not important. Stevenson was just out of his teens when some local Christians visited him behind bars and explained how he could follow Jesus. Robert decided to do that and his life took a radically new direction.

Upon his release, Stevenson began preaching the gospel himself, tutored by the same Jesus followers who led him to Christ. Not long afterward, he met Bonnie, a beautiful young woman with red hair, an engaging smile and plenty of street smarts of her own. They married and sometime later answered God's call to the mission field.

Robert and Bonnie saw that calling fulfilled at Monte Maria Church. In 2006, just weeks before he passed away from pulmonary fibrosis, Aurelio Gomez and church elders commissioned Robert as the new pastor of Monte Maria. By then, the church had rebounded to several thousand members.

If you visit Monte Maria Church on a Sunday, you will experience buoyant gospel music, fervent prayer and Bible-centered teaching. And after worship, you can treat yourself to a gourmet meal at the congregation’s open air restaurant. This is not an exaggeration. Monte Maria’s lead chef formerly trained apprentices to work in 5-star hotels in Acapulco.

He once told me had earned a phenomenal salary doing this, but struggled with alcohol abuse. His career nosedived. Then he met Jesus, stopped drinking and began living a simpler but more rewarding life. Monte Maria employed him to supervise its food service, as well as the kitchen at Hacienda El Nogal. Now a rustic rural conference center, El Nogal hosts several international gatherings each year.

I have had the privilege to attend two of these events myself and can't wait for an opportunity to return. Food is not the only allure, but it is a primary consideration. (Hint: the guacamole alone is worth the trip.)

Hacienda El Nogal serves up Michelin class food with that warm hospitality you come to expect in Mexico. And yet, there is something about its meals that is novel, fresh, almost exotic.

In fact, you could say that the food is simply out of this world.

Next time, Chiapas.