For the Rev. Misael Pacheco Guevara, home carries a rhythm.
It can be found in the streets of Barranquilla, Colombia, in neighbors who became extended family, in the colors of Carnival, and in the sound of cumbia. But more than anything, home lives in a way of being together — welcoming others, celebrating life, and making sure no one feels like a stranger.
As part of Stories That Take Us Home, our Hispanic Heritage Month series, Misael shares how his Caribbean roots, family history, and Colombian heritage continue to shape the way he understands community, faith, and ministry.
The Story I Carry
Misael grew up in Los Olivos, a neighborhood in southwest Barranquilla, surrounded by cousins, friends, and neighbors who felt like part of the family. His childhood memories are filled with games, friendship, and the warmth of a community where life was shared closely with others.
It was also there that his love for dancing began.
One memory still makes him smile: a Friday during Carnival when his parents gave him a Monocuco costume, representing one of the traditional characters of Barranquilla’s celebrations. He put it on the next day and became so attached to it that he barely took it off throughout Carnival — even sleeping in it until Ash Wednesday.
Behind that childhood story is something larger. Misael remembers the simplicity of neighborhood life, the affection of the people around him, and the deep connection to the folklore of Colombia’s Caribbean coast.
Those memories continue to shape what home means to him today.
What Shaped Me
For Misael, Colombian identity cannot be separated from cumbia.
He describes it as poetry in motion — a dance that brings together elegance, history, respect, and the cultural memory of Colombia and the Caribbean coast.
There is also a phrase from Barranquilla that he carries with him: “Quien lo vive, es quien lo goza” — “Those who live it are the ones who enjoy it.”
For Misael, the familiar Carnival expression reaches beyond celebration.
“The grace of God and the gifts of life cannot simply be watched from the sidelines,” he says. “We have to immerse ourselves in them fully and celebrate them in community.”
His understanding of heritage is also deeply connected to the generations who came before him. He sees his own story reflected in Colombia’s diversity: maternal grandparents connected to the Andean region of Santander and Spanish ancestry, the Caribbean roots of his paternal family, and the African heritage passed down through his paternal grandmother.
Those different histories do not compete with one another. For Misael, they come together.
They are part of the rhythm, resilience, faith, and sense of belonging he carries with him.
What Home Means to Me
That heritage also shapes the way Misael approaches ministry.
He describes his pastoral style as one rooted in closeness and joyful resilience, qualities he first learned growing up in his neighborhood. His Caribbean upbringing taught him to understand faith not only through words, but through hospitality, relationships, celebration, and presence.
“A Gospel without joy simply is not Gospel,” he says.
That belief can be seen in something as simple as the way he welcomes people.
“If you see me coming toward you, hugging you, and greeting you with a kiss, don’t be afraid,” he often tells his community. “It is my most sincere way of saying that you are welcome in my life — and that I will miss you when you leave.”
For Misael, ministry is about building bridges of fraternity and creating spaces where no one feels foreign. It is an extension of the community he knew as a child: doors open, people welcomed, life shared together.
And that is also what he hopes future generations will continue to carry.
He wants younger generations of Hispanics to preserve a strong sense of community, to recognize joy as a conscious expression of faith, to appreciate simplicity, and to keep what he calls that “Caribbean fire” alive within them.
To welcome the stranger. To remember where they came from. To sing, dance, believe, and walk together.
Because for Misael, home is not only Barranquilla, Carnival, or the sound of cumbia.
Home is the joy we carry — and the way we make room for others to share it.
