Argentina Buenos Aires North  

Monday, December 18th, San Isidro
Elder Holder and I had had an insane week preparing to send a batch of missionaries home. We were in bed at 2:30am each morning and up at 6 or 7 the next day for an entire week. We had plane delays -- both for the missionaries leaving and those arriving. But eventually everyone got to their assignments -- though I was jealous to see them go out to the mission field. At least they get some sleep out there! In all of this hustle, we were supposed to prepare something for zone conferences -- rather than gathering the entire mission, President Berta decided to have conferences (including some multi-zone gatherings) the week before Christmas.

On Monday we sat down together and worked on our talks. Nothing came to us, here the next day was the first conference and we weren't prepared. We prayed, and talked some more. The idea came to us of presenting a skit instead of a talk. What if we dramatized a missionary's worst fears of Christmas? No phone, no presents, no food. How ridiculous could we make it yet still somehow find a way to turn it all around and remind ourselves what Christmas is really about and why we're missionaries.

We tried to explain it to President. He was understandably doubtful, but let us proceed. At the first conference (Zona Norte, I believe), we tried it out. Holder played the role of the missionary who was just a month away from going home, I was the orito missionary who'd been out for only a month. We had the lights turned off and candles lit. We played as though it were 11pm on Christmas Eve in a flooded house, with no electricity, no phone to call home for the holiday, and presents floating around the house. We sat on the stand where the clerk usually sits and pretended it was our pension kitchen table -- the only dry spot in the house. We joked about seeing our shoes, our food, and pictures of Holder's novia float by. I complained that I didn't come out on my mission for this and Holder bragged that in one month he'd leave it all behind. He did a great job -- perhaps too good a job! -- acting like a trunky missionary and spoke of the red sports car waiting for him at home and the chicas he was going to look up when he got home.

In this despair, I asked the question, "Why are we really here?" Holder tried to answer by looking up Luke 2 and reading the story of the shepherds. He read:

• 8 And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.
• 9 And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.
• 10 And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.
• 11 For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.
• 12 And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.
• 13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,
• 14 Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.
• 15 And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us.
• 16 And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger.
• 17 And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child.

It was very sweet, President gave his final remarks and was touched by the Spirit. Afterwards, he told us he thought our presentation should go after his talk and we should make our rendition of Noche de Luz the closing hymn if we could find a way to invite the missionaries to sing along. The next conferences all went this way. In advance, we strategically invited Elders and Sisters with good voices to join singing halfway through our first verse hoping it would catch on. Amazingly it worked every time -- by the end of the first verse, the entire zone would be singing along. We would also arrange to have the person offering the closing prayer to stand immediately after the song was over and offer the prayer so the spirit that was always present could just ride out the rest of the meeting. I was brought to tears many times in those presentations and thanked the Lord that he gave us that experience.

We didn’t know then how much He had actually inspired us. That Friday night, the 22nd of December, President Berta called to tell us the Area Presidency had just called. Due to some rumored threats, we were going to have a curfew each evening at 7:00pm and were not to wear name tags in public. We spent Saturday telling the entire mission. Late that evening President called again and told us that Elder Perry had called him to tell him that we had to undergo a more serious curfew. The group that claimed responsibility for gunning down two missionaries in Bolivia that year had issued threats to strike again in Argentina or Peru. The CIA had personally spoken with the First Presidency and warned them that our missionaries were in danger. As a result, we were supposed to get every missionary in their pensions immediately and have them remain there until Tuesday, the 26th of December -- skipping Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. We weren’t allowed to go to the homes of members or anything. Our Christmas skit was coming true right before our very eyes!

We advised all the zone leaders immediately, and gave them permission to travel to the areas that had no phone to let them know, but to do so in civilian clothes without name tags and to return immediately. It was very sad, yet very powerful -- we were able to sacrifice our parties and plans, to fully understand the truth of the skit we had enacted just the week before. We weren’t on missions to enjoy ourselves or pasar un tiempo lindo. We were here to sacrifice our own pleasure to share the news that a child had been born nearly 2000 years earlier, a child who would enable all of us to return to live with God again if we would just humble ourselves and accept His message.

Christmas Eve came. The six office missionaries scrapped our plans and stayed home. That night we enacted the Nativity. For posterity’s sake, I recorded who was what: Levrino was Maria, Sierra was Jose, I was the inn-keeper, Trommlitz and Holder were shepherds, and Williams narrated while doubling as a sheep. We had fun, lit candles, and sang songs, exchanging a few presents. We drank home-made eggnog, then went to the top floor to watch the fireworks. Then we played Monopoly until 6:30 in the morning. In my prayers that night I thanked the Lord for the wonderful experience we had that week. To know that he would care enough to prepare the missionaries for the sacrifice they would be asked to make. It was one of the best Christmases I’ve ever had.

Elder James McQuivey
Bs.As. Norte 1988-1990
6 December 2003