What does Hispanic ministry look like?

By Daniel Cruz Longoria
First UMC, San Benito
On several occasions I have been asked to talk about Hispanic ministry or share ideas. I’m very glad to oblige. However, I always find myself asking the same questions: “What is Hispanic ministry, and what does that look like?”
The question that always follows those is, “Who are Hispanics? ”And I always end up with this question: “Am I Hispanic?”
I grew up in Fremont, Ohio, and my two best friends were Jason Schling and Kevin Hammer. The only Spanish words I knew growing up were taco, burrito, tortilla and enchilada.
Ever since I relocated to the Rio Grande Valley, I am able to communicate in Spanish; however, it’s more Tex-Mex or Spanglish than Castilian. If I had to choose between a taco and a pizza, make mine a meat lovers and leave out the jalapeno, please. I’m not into hot or spicy foods.
I do like tortas. But so does the Rev. Jason Adams. Maybe he’s Hispanic!
I did grow up listening to Mexican music. I really liked Santana, Freddy Fender, Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine! Did they sing in Spanish, though? Maybe I am thinking of Linda Ronstadt. Like so many, I didn’t really know who Selena was until her life was taken away.
When it comes to soccer, I can’t play to save my life, and I am not any better at baseball. I wasn’t even raised Roman Catholic; however, I did participate in two quinceaneras in the Roman Catholic church. Wow, am I Hispanic? Maybe, I’m Latino!
Well, my last name is Longoria, and there is a bank in Nuevo Laredo, Mexico, named Banco Longoria. Maybe that makes me Hispanic. Being Hispanic then, I wonder what Hispanic ministry brought me to accept Jesus as my Lord and Savior. Actually, it wasn’t a Hispanic ministry at all! It was several youths who showed me that in the middle of my chaos, I could encounter peace. Even though the world had crumbled me up, stepped all over me and left me alone in my misery, in the eyes of God I still had value, and no matter what had happened in my past, he still loved me!
On the trolley in downtown San Diego, a group of kids shared with me the love of Christ, and that is how I came to know Jesus as Lord and Savior. They never invited me to church, never gave me a tract and, in fact, never shared one word with me—in English or Spanish. When they thought that no one else was looking or listening, I was. It was because Jesus was made real to me in their lives that I became a believer.
Maybe it’s not how we do Hispanic ministry that is the challenge before us. Maybe the challenge is sharing our faith in Jesus Christ and living a life that exemplifies such. Telling others what Jesus has done in our own lives, we must take the message of love, hope and grace to all those who need to hear. And sometimes a gesture of love, an action of caring and a labor of our commitment to Christ speak more than words.
I’m not saying that we don’t need ministries that are not culturally relevant to our community. I’m saying that first we must be willing to offer Christ to all, no matter who they are.
So am I Hispanic? I have chosen to be; however, before I am Hispanic, I am American, and before my allegiance to the great U.S.A. is my allegiance to God, his kingdom and to the Great Commission!