My name is Mário Chaísse. But in capoeira circles, they call me Mavó. Capoeira is an Afro-Brazilian mixture of martial arts, acrobatics, dancing and spirituality that is set to music. If you arrive in my area and look for Mário, you will likely not find me. But ask for Mavó, and everyone will tell you where I am.

My family has always been Catholic. My father was a catechist (religion teacher) in the Catholic Church. My mother was so devoted to Catholicism that she applied to become a nun before meeting my father. Sometime after entering her training, my mother and father met, and he won her heart. As a result, my mother felt compelled to talk to the nuns. The nuns then decided to sponsor her marriage to my father, and so my two siblings and I were born. I am the middle child.

We grew up within the church, studying the catechism, not because we understood its meaning but because my parents made us participate. In the area where I lived, there was a very common saying, “Whoever doesn’t go to church will be muhedeni,” one without God, religion or religious values. Because of the humiliation associated with that word, my siblings and I did everything we could to never miss church. We did not want to be muhedenis.

In 2014, I met a young man named Fernando, who was a very devout Catholic. He wanted to learn capoeira from me because I was regarded as one of the best capoeira masters. Fernando would then be my new disciple. He was so excited to get started with the practices that we began that very week.

While we were training, I saw that Fernando was very committed and talkative, making him stand out as not only a disciple but as a friend. Our relationship grew over the next two years (2014-2015).

At the beginning of 2016, Fernando moved to another city to study.

I started reading a fascinating book about worship, and after some time, my convictions began to change. There began to be Sundays when I no longer went to church — until I discovered a copy of the New Testament. I read stories about Jesus, learning more about Him. And so God began to show me the light of truth. When I went to the Catholic Church, I came across things I now understood should not be part of the worship of God, like statues, for example.

Then began my dilemma. Why do we worship statues? As the conviction continually grew in me that the worship of images is indeed idolatry, even being called muhedeni no longer affected me as it used to.

In 2017, Fernando returned to the city with new convictions about religion and capoeira as an art. Instead of practicing with me like someone who wanted to learn fight moves, he started coming to practice as a simple sport. His change sparked my curiosity.

Later, during a conversation with Fernando, he shared information about Catholicism that didn’t make me very happy. We were close friends. How could he say those things?

From then on, we had several conversations about the Bible and truth. Little by little, Fernando shared about his experience learning the truth, how he was amazed by the way his new religion, “Adventism,” preached and taught the truth and how it brought about a remarkable transformation in his life.

All of this made me curious to know more about these Adventists. But I didn’t want to abandon the Catholic Church. Despite everything, that was the church of my family.

Our conversations about the Bible and truth continued. All the information Fernando shared coincided with what I had discovered in my New Testament. As my curiosity grew, so did my desire to abandon the Catholic Church.

Yet, I continued studying the catechism at the church to receive chrism, a consecrated mixture of balsam and oil used during anointing. During this same time, Fernando invited me to his church.

When Saturday arrived, I joined him. It was one of the most memorable days of my life. What impressed me most was seeing a young male singing group called “Outsiders.” Their song felt heavenly, and I asked myself: How can boys so young do that? Then I realized that for some of the singers I had been their teacher. It was really surprising. That encouraged me to return to the church.

After a while, I told my mother I wanted to change churches. She thought I wanted to change Catholic communities and said that was fine.

One day, returning home excited, I told my mother I wanted to change my religion and belong to a church that prays on Saturdays. She did not like that at all. She told me that this church was not good and that whenever they wanted to baptize people, they were taken to South Africa, where they would hand over the souls of their parents. My mother asked me, “Do you really want to deliver my soul to this church?”

I was crestfallen. I did not know much about the church yet to refute her statement. Deep down, I felt my mother was wrong. So I returned the following Saturday, and this time, I stayed the whole day. I returned home convinced about the Sabbath and that my mother was not talking about the Adventist church.

Life with my mother became a form of hell, in part because I started to make many personal changes at home regarding the Sabbath, food and other matters.

At first, I somehow started to despise my mother because I considered myself the keeper of the truth, and I didn’t like it when she spoke to me with indignation. I always responded to her with arrogance. However, after continuing to learn from the Adventists — including graceful living and respecting the rights of others to believe differently — I began to change my behavior. My mother began noticing these changes, and peace returned to our home.

Today, I thank God for sending Fernando into my life. If God had not guided everything from the beginning, I believe there would be no way I would have become an Adventist.

God led me to meet someone who became my capoeira disciple, then a great friend and then an Adventist. Through him, I met Jesus, who became my Friend and I, His disciple.

Fernando became one of our Bible workers at the Tonga Project in Mozambique. He wants to go to college next year to study theology.

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