This
scripture was in the lectionary earlier this summer, right when we got back
from Guatemala; we didn’t use it that Sunday but it’s been on my mind ever
since…and I wanted to go back to it today. This story comes after a couple
chapters that have been focused on discipleship…Jesus has called disciples…and
then sent them out. To be noted is that one of the places they went was into
Samaria where they were turned away.
Luke
10:25-37
I
grew up in a small town. Actually it was one of the biggest towns for 100
miles. But it was still pretty small. Small enough that we knew most
people…considered everyone to be a neighbor. At that time almost all those
neighbors pretty much looked like me: very WASPy.
There
was one Mexican family; for a year or so there was a Black family. In all my
years there I only know of one Jewish family who lived just outside of town.
So I
grew up thinking my neighbors were people who looked like me, prayed like me
more or less. My little world first cracked open a bit in high school when I
joined other United Methodist Youth from our district on a mission trip to
Kansas City. We stayed at a church in the inner city and met and worked and
played with kids from that neighborhood. They looked very different from me.
And, as we got to know one another I learned that they’d had a very different
sort of life than me. Lived in a whole different neighborhood than the safe
protected one I’d grown up in.
My
eyes were opened on that trip to a world much bigger than I had known existed.
A world which included people very different from me…who I learned new things
from, who were very welcoming of these sheltered kids from western Kansas….in
fact looked after us.
Since
that experience, my eyes have continued to be opened: often through similar
experiences. In college I left another safe small Kansas town where I’d spent
my first two years of college, in order to step into a whole ‘other world in
southeastern Kentucky. I still remember winding my way through the mountains
and, for the first time in my life seeing one cow grazing in a field. One cow.
I’d never seen such a thing!
And
yet there too, where people had had such a different experience of the world, I
was welcomed and learned so much. And, time and again, was shown mercy…often by
those I thought I was there to help.
I
think those personal experiences are why one of the most meaningful pieces of
my own ministry has been when I’ve accompanied church folks – youth and adults
– on ventures that have taken us beyond the normal confines of our
neighborhoods: those trips have sometimes been as close as the Salvation Army
in downtown Louisville or as far away and as hard to get to as Panzos,
Guatemala.
These
have been meaningful personally because my own eyes and heart are always opened
more fully and I am touched time and again by the mercy of others. But they’ve
been meaningful pastorally as well as I see the affect others: both on those
who have made the trip and those who have welcomed us and let us into their
hearts.
As
the PC(USA) makes clear: a mission trip isn’t an end in itself but “one step in
a journey of deeper engagement” in the larger mission of the church, which is
of course the mission of Jesus Christ who, if we sign up to follow him, will
send us out to “cross cultural and spiritual boundaries.” (quotes from the
pcusa.org world mission website)
It’s
all just “one step in a journey of deeper engagement.” That one step might be
just down the street to the UCHM food pantry where you actually come face to
face with your neighbors who come for food but end up sharing their story and
hope with you. That one step may be the one you take to come to the orientation
meeting to find out how to be involved with the resettlement of the Mehe Aldeen
family from Syria.
The
point is that each step is a move toward “deeper engagement.”
Not
just a dip in and out, a move to “help” and save. But, the first step in
sticking around, developing relationships – not one-sided, “us” helping “them”
– but mutual relationships that uncover the gifts that each has to share.
This
concept of mission as partnership, rather than one-directional charity is what
we as a
church
are growing into. We’ve always had an idea of it though. It is why we haven’t
just included Kentucky Refugee Ministries in our mission budget, sending a
little money each year, but instead have, every few years, actually helped to
re-settle a refugee family: giving us the chance to have our eyes opened, to
learn about the struggles of leaving one’s home, fleeing violence and
oppression; and to help with the resources we have…but also to be blessed by
the gifts that new friends from new places with new perspectives bring to us.
Nine
years ago, with some seed money from a Lily grant related to a sabbatical I
had, a group of 19 people from this congregation made a trip to eastern
Guatemala. On that trip we led a VBS, held workshops for women and church
officers and youth, attended worship…we even mixed cement and laid a new floor
for one of the pastor’s homes.
(Something,
it should be noted, we’ve never been asked to do again!)
I
remember on the bus, near the end of that trip, the mission co-worker who had
been coordinating things for us down there, mentioned to me the idea that maybe
this was just a first step. That maybe we should consider not just dipping into
these people’s lives once and then going on our merry way.
A few
weeks after we returned, some of the group who went gathered at Heine Bros on
Chenoweth, a mural of a Central American site as a backdrop, and talked about
how we might continue to be involved with these Presbyterians in another
country. We had all kinds of ideas: all those sewing machines we saw – maybe we
could teach them how to use them. Water: there’s an issue that needs to be
dealt with. Or keeping kids in school past the 2nd grade – how could we help
with that? Ideas flew around the room. Finally, Carlos Lara, the pastor from
Guatemala who had been in our midst for a year or so by then, spoke up: “Maybe
we should be asking these new friends what they would like.”
I
thought of Carlos’ comment this week when I read an article in Presbyterian
Outlook about the work of racial justice that many white congregations –
including our own – are trying to figure out how to engage with. Shannon
Craigo-Snell was quoted in that article talking about how “for white
Christians, part of the work also is to listen and to not always try to lead.”
It is
in our nature – as white, privileged, educated, able-bodied, well-off North
Americans – to figure it is our place to be the helpers. And to figure we know
what that means, what is needed. It is much harder for us to be the ones who
don’t always know; to be the ones who need to learn, who are in need of someone
showing mercy to us.
It is
much easier to do mission simply as charity. And sometimes it’s necessary: so
we bring food on communion Sundays so our neighbors don’t go hungry. Or buy
school supplies for children we’ll never even meet but who might end up without
a backpack and embarrassed the first day of school if we don’t give them one.
But if that’s all we did – it simply lets us stay in a position of dominance,
of the one with the resources to give – and to control.
Which
is all a much easier place to be – at least more comfortable. Less messy. When,
after a lot of conversation and prayer and another visit to Guatemala to talk
to the folks of Estoreño presbytery about it, we
decided to enter into a partnership, none of us really knew what that would
mean…or call forth from us. There have been many times when I figured it would
be much easier – and maybe even more helpful – if we just supported them with
money. And, at first at least, I think that’s what our partners thought. It has
taken a lot more effort and vulnerability and even money to put the emphasis
instead on relationship. Mutual relationship. Because as each of you know
because you are in relationships with actual people, relationships are
inevitably difficult. Add in starkly different cultures and three different
languages and differing expectations and ways of doing things, and well…
But
we decided we’re in this. And now after 8 years we realize we wouldn’t back out
if we could. These folks are family. We are important to them – you are
important to them even if you’ve never been to Estoreño,
even if you didn’t get to meet and talk with the folks from there who came
here. They know that we – this church – is here and cares for them and prays
for them. And it means a lot. When we show up it seems to be a huge
encouragement. Which it is for us too. Personally this last trip was especially
touching; our partners planned our time completely – which included a lot of
connecting – with as many churches as possible, with the children and youth,
with the women. This is what is important to them – not that we help them use
those sewing machines some church gave them without asking if they wanted them.
They want to connect at the level of faith and the joy of spreading the Gospel
of Love. So, the relatively small financial gifts we send to them are used to
help with that – providing theological education for church leaders, helping
the women get together from all around the presbytery to support one another in
their growing ministry. Come to lunch today to hear more stories about what
that looks like for all of us.
This
partnership relationship could have been anywhere; this is just the place that
opened up for us. It doesn’t matter so much where. But I think it does matter
that we have this commitment: to not just dip in and out of a place, but to
stick around: learn from and be blessed by and become connected to Christians
in a beautiful and isolated corner of Guatemala….which affects how we think
about mission anywhere, including right here at home.
It
has led to other ministries such as the English Language Learners. When we
looked around this neighborhood we saw lots of Guatemalans among us here. In
conversation with the Hispanic/Latino Task Force of the presbytery we learned
that learning English is a high need for immigrants to this country. So, we
began offering classes…the students who came were mostly Hispanics at first,
but now: we have students from China, Japan, Egypt, Pakistan, Congo.
I’m
pretty sure some people have learned some English. But, the relationships that
have developed over time have been the real blessing. Folks sit around tables
for class and learn how to order food or fill out a job application. But before
class begins, we sit at other tables to share a meal that one of you prepares
and serves and that we all sit down and eat together. All of these experiences
help us know that it is not just in theory that we share this communion Table
with neighbors near and far. When we actually cross cultural boundaries to sit
at table with neighbors out there, then we come to this Table more conscious of
the great company that is also welcomed by Christ and where we all meet in our
common need for grace…and our common call to show mercy to one another.
