Rev. Maria Swearingen, reflects on the church as el hogar, as home, and how God is revealed when we welcome all, build community and learn from one another.
When one of our youth is to be baptized, one tradition that our Salvadoran members have long had is to gather for an Agape Meal in someone’s home. Here, as we eat and celebrate together, we often share our own baptism stories and offer hopes and prayers for the young person before us. As much as I love Sunday mornings, each time we gather in someone’s home, I’m reminded that the word in Spanish for “home” conveys something deeper than it does in English.
El hogar. Rooted in the Latin word for “hearth,” for the fire inside a home that kept it warm, el hogar is more than house, more than an address. El hogar is the place where children grow up and feel safe, where families gather around la mesa, the table, to feed and be fed by each other, where we play and share stories, where we rest, where we celebrate. And for a people who have experienced displacement—who’ve left behind everything familiar amidst economic insecurity—el hogar becomes both memory and hope, something that travels with you and something you create wherever love gathers.
Our multicultural, multilingual Baptist congregation in downtown DC continues learning what it means to become el hogar together. The journey wasn’t planned—it emerged organically as Salvadoran families found their way to DC during the civil war, and over time our commitment to integrate as one community grew.
El hogar means familia, family. We continue to see how our second and third generation children show us the way forward, moving seamlessly between languages and worlds in ways that make us feel like un hogar, like one big home. We always say our children mirror back to us who we are as a church, and ours continue to show us that el hogar stretches to hold all of us.
And for a people who have experienced displacement—who’ve left behind everything familiar amidst economic insecurity—el hogar becomes both memory and hope, something that travels with you and something you create wherever love gathers.
El hogar means gathering around la mesa, the table. During Hispanic Heritage Month, as we eat pupusas to raise funds for student leaders in El Salvador, the act becomes both communion and justice work. When we cook asados at city parks, the sizzle of the grill becomes worship, and everyone understands the sacred act of feeding each other. Sunday mornings, our gentle voices sing “Jesus Loves Me” followed by “Cristo Me Ama,” and the Spanish doesn’t just translate the English—it reveals that in el hogar de Dios, in God’s house, every language finds its home. Our Salvadoran siblings have been setting tables of hospitality and hope in the presence of unjust systems, showing us that the Gospel isn’t quiet contemplation but the bold act of creating el hogar in the midst of struggle.
El hogar means descanso, it means rest and play together. Our camping trips with the Latino Fellowship, our bilingual retreats—these aren’t just activities but practices of creating el hogar together. When language barriers arise, when conversations speed past some of us, we’ve learned that el hogar makes room for expressions, gestures, and the patient work of understanding. Our children become natural translators, whispering explanations that help the whole community know itself better.
El hogar means celebrating life itself—fiestamos—because for people who have survived displacement and struggle, every moment of joy is resistance, every gathering is victory. When the quinceañera dress catches the light streaming through our stained glass windows, it’s a declaration that this space has become el hogar where young people can claim their identity and future.
This is what English-speaking Christians can learn from Latino theology: that church isn’t somewhere you go but somewhere you become, together. El hogar teaches us that the systems that marginalize our Latino siblings—immigration policies, economic inequality, racial profiling and discrimination—are the same systems our faith calls us to challenge. When we center Latino voices and experiences, we’re not just being welcoming; we’re deepening our faith.
This is what English-speaking Christians can learn from Latino theology: that church isn’t somewhere you go but somewhere you become, together.
Today, when I see our congregation gathered for worship—Salvadoran American children switching languages to help us all understand each other, Spanish speaking layleaders teaching Sunday school in Spanish while singing English hymns in worship, English speaking layleaders leading the call to worship in Spanish, families creating el hogar wherever they gather—I know we’re experiencing what the kingdom of God looks and feels most like.
El hogar is expandable. It stretches to hold one more chair at la mesa, one more voice in the song, one more story in the circle. We’re still learning, we’ll always be learning, but we’re learning together, discovering that el hogar isn’t just what we build—it’s what builds us, shapes us, teaches us what love looks like when it is gathered around the shared fire of faith, hope, and love.
¡La iglesia es un hogar! The church is a home. And God’s hogar has space for everyone.
Rev. Maria Swearingen is Senior Co-Pastor of Calvary Baptist Church in Washington, D.C. Maria’s reflection is inspired by JustFaith’s newest program Encuentro de Esperanza: Encountering Hope.
Are you looking to build community and reenergize your church around the core principles of your common faith?
Encuentro de Esperanza: Encountering Hope offers a path forward. In the process, participants rediscover what made them fall in love with the Gospel in the first place, find renewed life and energy for ministry, and prepare to lead their congregation in living out God’s love for the world.
How can your church walk alongside your Spanish-speaking neighbors?
Through Scripture, stories, and reflection, you’ll explore core Christian teachings and learn from some of the many teachings, wisdom, and traditions that Spanish-speaking communities have brought to our Church universal. You could offer Encuentro de Esperanza in English to prepare parishioners to seek true solidarity with Spanish-speaking neighbors, or you could offer it in Spanish or bilingually in order to build community across language in culture.
Join us on Thursday, November 13 at 2:30pm ET/11:30am PT to learn more about the Encuentro de Esperanza: Encountering Hope program.
JustFaith Staff Members will provide a brief experience of the program, an overview of the content, general information, and tips for starting the program in your church, organization, or area. This event will be facilitated in English and offer simultaneous live interpretation in Spanish. Register today!