“DON’T BE DRUNK”
by Erwin Bourne—March 25, 2002
In Latin countries, this week is known as “Semana
Santa.” It is “Holy Week” to us from North America.
All this week is a time of “festivo” or Christian
holiday. During my travels in Mexico, I recognized
this holiday as one of great evil and drunkenness.
Highway robberies were common to support their
festivities. They believed that God was dead and
couldn’t see their wicked deeds. I’ve had many very
frightening experiences during Christianity’s most
sacred days. Saint Paul writes in Ephesians 5:18
(NLT): Don’t be drunk with wine, because that will
ruin your life. Instead, let the Holy Spirit fill and
control you.
On Monday evening of Holy Week I drove the
four-wheeler out the front gate of the Casa Grande. I
left it open, planning to be back very soon, as I was
just delivering a sack of zapote (native fruit) to a
house across town. Upon returning, I encountered a
drunk man sitting in a chair on the front veranda.
Before I could dismount from the “moto” he was along
side crying out, “I need help. I need your help.”
Immediately I sensed his condition. His breath had
the strong odor of wine. I led him to a chair.
He cried out, “I need help, I need spiritual help.”
Through his drunkenness, he was making some sense. I
wheeled my wheelchair up close to him and took him by
the shoulders. I’d judge him to be about fifty. His
name was Arturo, I later learned. By now he was
calling out loud for help. I began praying, and
exhorting all at the same time. He said, “Amen!” He
repeated a few phrases of my prayer. And when I
prayed (of course in Spanish) “Come unto me, all ye
that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you
rest,” He beat on his chest shouting, “Ven a mi, ven a
mi”—(Come to me).
I sensed that he was fast becoming sober, so I held
on. (Later, I asked Jean how was it the two big Fila
watchdogs ever let him in. She said that Sasha and
Danger attacked him, but he staggered on up to the
entry—too drunk to pay any attention.) Now I could
talk to him. Reason with him. He began shouting
“Glory to God! Hallelujah!” It was getting late and
I was hungry. I wheeled my chair alongside of him out
to the gate. “Have a good night!”
—Erwin and Jean Bourne