We went to the 8:30 service at St. Paul’s today. For the first time we heard the new senior pastor, James Large. It was about baptism. I related to his grabber (intro) which starred a young man who was part of a couple whom James had married, obviously as “walk-ins.” The man said that they now had a six-month-old and he thought it was about time to have him “done.” I will not bore and/or dismay you with the ensuing conversation, but Pastor James valiantly tried to convince him, and now us, of the centrality of baptism to life-long discipleship.
After worship a woman named Julie spirited us off to the Here It Is class. We spirited willingly since Here.. is one of the two we had considered visiting today. It was as laid back and off subject as last week’s, but by the end Dot and I agreed that the discussion did need to take place. Jerry the leader sparked it by mentioning Bishop Schnase's book, Five Practices of Fruitful Congregations -- the chapter on “radical hospitality,” only to depart from Schnase for the remainder of our time. But we did share some ideas and frustrations and successes about the process of getting and keeping new members. We were glad to see Grady and Roberta who were at St. Paul’s in the early 1960s.
We brunched at Paisano near Mesilla, went home and changed clothes.
The afternoon was fun. We journeyed to Dripping Springs, about fifteen miles southeast of Las Cruces. I had never been there, probably because in my youth we did not own a road grader-- or even a backhoe. In recent years the road mostly has been paved—except for a few miles of dusty washboard, which did not thrill the Prius or me. We ate dust as we met numerous SUVs.
However, all was forgiven when we got to Dripping Springs Park. We could even use our nifty life-time Golden national park pass. And even better, the views were gorgeous. We opted to take the shorter of the two trails—the one to the hermit’s cave. On the way Dot took a picture of every cactus and wildflower. My eyes, however (except for looking out for the leavings of unknown species on the trail), were focused upward and outward-- on the small mountain where the cave is to the east, the Organ mountain range behind it and stretching north to the Rockies, the foothills around Las Cruces to the north, Picacho Peak to the northwest that we can see from our house, and the tall rock formations to our west and south. The sky was as blue and cloudless as the sky I bragged to Dot about in letters written in 1959 shortly after I met her in Indiana. We looked up and around and gave thanks to God the Creator.
After a half hour or so of climbing, we reached “La Cueva” – the cave. We went in through the four or five foot high entrance and went about thirty feet into the cave, where they had set up a barrier. We came out and took a few pictures.
La Cueva has yielded many artifacts, indicating it was occupied as long ago as 5000 B. C. by people of the Jornada branch of the Mogollon culture. During the 18th and 19th centuries the rock shelter was probably known to roving bands of Apaches who frequented the area. In the 1860s, it was home to one of the more eccentric figures in New Mexico history—Giovanni Maria Agostini—known to the locals as “El Ermitano”- the Hermit. Giovanni came to the Mesilla Valley in 1867. His reputation as one with healing powers had preceded him from his former home in Las Vegas, NM. He kept an abundant supply of herbs. People brought the sick to him when he lived in Mesilla as well as La Cueva. He lived in Mesilla for a short time when he announced to his host that he was going to the cave. When warned of the dangers of doing so, he supposedly replied, “I shall make a fire in front of my cave every Friday evening while I shall be alive. If the fire fails to appear, it will be because I have been killed.” On a Friday evening in the spring of 1869 there was no fire at La Cueva. An Antonio Garcia led a group up the mountain to find the Hermit lying face down with a knife in his back. The murder was never solved. He is buried in the Mesilla Cemetery.
Dot and I returned to the visitor center by the same trail we ascended the mountain. We left for another time the climb toward the other present attraction, the Dripping Springs Resort.
In the parking lot we made the acquaintance of a young Japanese couple and their two sons. They had been living in El Paso for the past year. He was working for a Japanese company with a factory in Ciudad Juarez (just across the Mexican border from El Pas0.) The company supplies power window components to GM and Chrysler. Unfortunately the company is closing this factory so the couple will be returning to Japan on Friday. Signs of the current economic downturn --- even hitting Japanese companies working in Mexico to supply US manufacturing!
We went home and watched the Sunday morning commentary shows that we had recorded, ate a tasty home cooked meal, did some reading, watched Desperate Housewives, read some more, and retired for the night. What a great day!
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