Monday, August 22, 2011

Week 52 - "You'll come back, when they call you; no need to say goodbye..."

Readings: (Jeremiah 1:4-10, Psalm 138)  Romans 12: 1-8 & John 15:1-17

I stand here with you all tonight on the eve of my departure. My friends, I thank you for being here with me through this journey we’ve had together. Was it really one year ago that I arrived? It seems like a few short months have passed – a few short months with a lifetime of personal growth, that is.

    As I was sitting down to write this, trying to find the words to say to you all all that I want to say, I found myself looking back on what I wrote before even I arrived. Before I knew any of you or what a glorious life I could build for myself here through a little love and a lot of amazing company.

    Going with the parable you just heard in the gospel, before I answered this call, I already felt like my branch was doing pretty well, staying rooted in the vine of Jesus and bearing fruit by abiding in him, I’ve been very blessed in my journey so far. When God called me to be missionary, I was content back in the US already doing what I was doing: living in Delaware, getting ready for graduation, starting the ordination process, enjoying the company of good friends and family. So much joy was around me already, but in the midst of it, something was pulling at my heart. God was calling – calling me to leave all of that behind and follow Him.  God, the great gardener, was taking out His pruning shears.

As you just heard, every branch of the vine that bears fruit, God prunes so that it can make more fruit. So I started to discern and pray on this call and eventually told the Church to send me where they thought I should go. Fundraise for the unknown and put my future in the trust of the Mission Personnel Office until I was told where I’d be going in South America, Africa, or Asia.
So, my friends, I came to journey with you here. Amanda and I disembarked from our airplane and embarked on the unknown. My great adventure began, guided by faith and the light of Christ. One of my favourite lines from the hymn Amazing Grace is; “My faith has brought me safe this far, and my faith will lead me home.” At the beginning of this year, that meant that I would finish up my year of work and go back to the US. That’s all it meant, but then my life changed when I wasn’t looking... and my faith led me to see AnSoc/AnHouse/ASF as my “Home away from Home” and so while it hardly seems like a whole year ago that I arrived, the person I was back then seems very different.
I came here for a lot of reasons, part of which was some idea I had to serve... to “pay it forward” so to speak and give back for all of the blessings that have been given to me. While I did my best to do that, I cannot imagine that what I did for you can come close to what you all have given me.  I’ve learned so much here.

Some of these lessons have been very simple:

  • Just now, now now, and now refer to three different kinds of timing.
  • Public transportation here is never boring.
  • Africa time is a way of life – especially in ASF
  • The kitchen is the most important room in the house.
  • When travelling witht he ASF, the closest thing you get to a departure time is a twelve hour window. And don’t bring too big of a suitcase.
  • A pause is not just a reference to things that have stopped moving.
  • Every successful organisation should have an HH folder and a good supply of board games.
  • (And some of my favourite ASF experiences get full credit for this one) I don’t need nearly as much sleep as I thought I did.

Once I had mastered these simple lessons, as well as pretty much getting the pronunciation of most of your names down, finally, the road was paved for me to learn much more important things.

Let’s go back to gospel reading. We are branches of the vine; to bear fruit, we must be rooted in Jesus, for no branch bears fruit without its vine. The reading continues to tell us that those who abide in Jesus and allow Jesus to abide in them bear much fruit and may become disciples. What does it mean to abide in Jesus? I think that’s a question we try to ask ourselves everyday in our faith journey as Christians, trying to live as Jesus taught us in the gospels – trying to figure out exactly what it means to live as Jesus taught us in the gospels. At least, that’s what I’ve tried to do this year as your Episcopal missionary in Cape Town.

What does it mean to be a missionary? Well, for me it’s not standing high up on a soapbox saving some so-called heathen. It’s about standing next to people on the same soil. It’s not yelling at or condemning people on Delaware street corners or Cape Metrorail trains. That’s just talking at people. No listening or learning or understanding. For me, those things are essential to this journey of mission I’m on. Or ministry in general. Ministry is about journeying with people. It’s about me walking beside you as my true self, and sometimes revealing my growing edges along the way. I figured this year would be good for the future of my ministry, but I don’t think I realized just how fruitful it would be. Now, as I prepare to go back to my side, I see God taking out the pruning shears again, and I endure the pain of being cut back– of saying goodbye to you here and now – and go on and try to bear the fruit of the spirit in the future. And what incredible examples of that I’ve seen in ministry here this year!

AnHouse, AnSoc, ASF, before I came to the other side of this world to serve you, to journey with you, I was in a position very similar to where you are now. I was a campus ministry student discerning where God was calling me and trying to figure out what my gifts are. I didn’t think I could ever take a leap of faith to the other side of the ocean like I’ve done (and highly recommend), but with God everything is possible. In the reading from Romans tonight, Paul wrote, “We have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us” We all have gifts, gifts that differ with our different roles and callings.  Radical young theologian and author Shane Claiborne once wrote, ““The question is not whether you will be a doctor or a lawyer, but what kind of doctor of lawyer you will be.  What would a 20-year-old Jesus have said if they asked him ‘What are you going to do when you grow up?’I don’t know, maybe something like, “I’m going to turn the world upside down. I’m going to hang out with prostitutes and tax collectors until people kill me.”Or what would Peter have said? “Well, I was going to be a fisherman, but then I met this dude, and he messed all that up.’”” Claiborne understands that sometimes our gifts lead us places that we never would have dreamed. My friends, do you know how gifted you are? Do you know how much you’ve given me?

AnHouse, you are the people that I go home to at night, after a long day. A separate piece of the rest of AnSoc, a separate community, each with your own gifts participating in the whole. Subi’s noises, Tatenda’s magical laugh, David’s ridiculous sense of humour, Lyle’s sarcasm, all of your listening ears, too many to name! I could go on for days. Between the fourteen of us, I feel like we can conquer any problem; there is at least one expert on any given area. I’m not sure it will do all that feel justice to tell you that I will miss coming home to each and every one of you each night after work. It will be so late for me when I can’t sit in my room working while your laughter carries up the stairs and I know that all is just as it should be. What will I do with a quiet kitchen?

ASF. I started work at the ASF office on my second week here. Within a few months, I could tell you about WHAT the mission and the work of ASF looked like on paper – what the office’s function is. That was easy to get down... but then I got to know you people.  You welcomed me into your ASF family with such love and such warmth.  Your conference blew me away.  The time and energy you all put into your AGM was completely envigorating but exhausting, but then you just turn around and stay up til4 am at a mojikelo with unrivalled passion for God and ministry. Sitting there in the middle of all of you that night at the mojikelo, that’s the night that I knew without a doubt that I had fallen in love with ASF. You don’t just kneel and say a prayer. You don’t just stand and sing a song. You worship with your whole body moving when you sing a chorus. Your whole being. It doesn’t matter that I can’t sing with you because I don’t know the words or that I make a fool of myself missing steps when I try to join in. As far as my ears are concerned your speaking in tongues, but I feel the heart of your worship in my heart... In my heart that aches to think I’m going back to a church where we stand still and sing everything in English from a book. Your passion for worship has spoiled me.

I have one last story for you before I close. Last weekend, I had the pleasure of attending the first meeting of the current PEC, the provincial student leadership, with Tshepo and Yanga and others from all over this glorious province. That first morning, we did some team building exercises and one of them was called the trust fall. Have any of you heard of that? Well, what you do is you stand up on a platform or atop a small staircase with your back to your friends, who are all standing beneath you, in two lines, facing each other and putting out their arms. On the count of three you close your eyes and fall back, letting go completely and having faith that these people will catch you when you fall. You can’t see them, but they’re there for you. The idea reminds me of what I did when I boarded the plane into the unknown coming here, answering God’s call. It’s how I feel now as I stand here having to leave and it’s how I encourage you to go on in your own ministry, each with your own gifts. Remember your 2011 conference theme and put your faith in action! Don’t be afraid to follow God up to new heights when he calls you; I can tell you from experience that while it can be scary at first, it’s worth the work. Trust that God will catch you and with that trust each other. Trust your community. Catch each other because that’s what working and ministering and journeying together is all about. You just heard in Romans, that “as in one body we have many members, and not all the members have the same function, so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually we are members one of another.” Church. Worship. Faith. ASF. AnSoc. AnHouse. It’s about community and how strong yours can be if you work together.

ASF prides itself on providing a home away from home to students. My ASF family here, along with AnHouse and Hope Africa: well, you all have become my home. It hurts my heart to say goodbye, so tonight, I just say “Until we meet again.” Theologian Frederick Buechner wrote more eloquent words about goodbye than I can say; he wrote “When you remember me, it means that you have carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who you are. It means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. It means that if we meet again, you will know me.” Being called here to you has been my deepest, greatest pleasure. The love I have for you is a part of me now. Wherever I go, I will remember you and I will carry you with me in my heart.

Highlights of the Good Life

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Week 51 - “Never let your praying knees get lazy and love like crazy…”

You say to-may-to. I say to-mah-to.

No,  really. Believe it, my fellow Americans. I say to-MAH-to now. I’m not totally sure when that started happening. When I started saying “Is it?” even when it is not grammatically correct, what I started saying tomato sauce instead of ketchup, when I stopped fearing the public taxi, when I turned green.

Kermit the Frog is one wise amphibian; he was spot on when he said that it’s not easy being green… but I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me explain to you what it really means to be green.

When I first signed up for YASC, the program that brought me here, and I was at the discernment weekend, I met a woman who served in Liberia with YASC a few years ago. She told us a story about what it means to be in YASC. She said, “As you are now, living in the US, you’re blue. Everything around you is blue: the buildings, the people the culture. When you do YASC, when you go somewhere else, you’re going to be this blue person living in a world where everything is yellow: scary yellow, exciting level, new yellow, challenging yellow.  One day, while living in this yellow world, you’ll look into a mirror and realize that some of this yellow has seeped in your blue and you’re green now.  As much as that blue will always be in you, that yellow has worked its way into you to, and when you go back to your blue world, you won’t be able to revert to being blue anymore.” I’m pretty sure Kermit and I would also agree on the fact that we wouldn’t trade being green for anything and that being green feels like one of the greatest things that’s ever happened to us.

I’m not sure how to fully explain where I am right now. I know I haven’t written in two months and I’m getting ready to leave. I’m writing this “Goodbye, I love you,” sermon and I don’t want this blog to turn into that sermon. That sermon will have its own time this Sunday evening – my last night in this glorious city.

I’ve reached this point where everything is winding down and I’m finishing up all of my work projects, at least in an official capacity. At AnHouse, I’m finalizing the plans for the formal (aka one of the best ways that I can imagine spending one of my last nights in Cape Town) and tonight’s the last compline. Tomorrow’s the last Alpha and Thursday’s the last Bible Study. As for the ASF office…

I’ve always enjoyed my work with ASF, but it’s only in the last few months that I’ve really, deeply, gotten to know it and really, deeply, gotten to love it. One of the hard parts as I say goodbye (one of the many many parts) is that I say goodbye with the knowledge that with the knowledge I’ve gained this year, I could so much more if I stayed another year. I’m not sure I’d be able to refuse staying another year… but I’m speaking in “What Ifs” now, and “what if” just might be the only phrase worse than “goodbye.”

I know I didn’t blog about the ASF conference as I hoped to and even now I’m not sure I can tell you exactly what being there felt like. I will say that while much time and energy was spent on their Annual General Meeting, the time and energy and spirit spent on worship blew me away.  I’m going to miss their choruses in African languages. The singing and dancing and praying with one’s whole body, one’s whole being. It’s going to be late for me when I get back to the US and am standing still with a hymnal and a service in one language.  While I miss my church and my Book of Common Prayer and my worship home, I know I’ll miss ASF’s worship – “the home away from home” I’ve found in it - that feeling that I hope to carry with me.  There are two somewhat corny quotes that come to mind:

First: “You forget what people said and you forget what people did, but you always remember how they made you feel.”

As much as I’m a word-centric English major who loves to remember the heartfelt words of friends, I cannot deny the key point that is made here.  One of the many many beautiful things about living here is the fact that I hear multiple languages every day, especially where ASF is concerned.  Pretty much all of those choruses that I was talking about are not in English, but while I was at conference, I realized that that doesn’t matter at all. You can feel the prayer, the community, the Church, the love in the echoes of the clapping and the dancing around you, through you. The noise makes your heart vibrate as it beats in your chest. The Holy Spirit is everywhere around, in every note of the song that speaks to your soul in the words your ears don’t understand.

Ministry is about journey with people. Holding their hand when they need it, even if they don’t know why. It’s sitting in silence or talking for hours. It’s about being the white chick dancing and singing with your ASF family, even at the risk of looking like a goof who doesn’t know the steps. It’s not about knowing the steps it’s about knowing the feeling. The feeling of love I will carry with me always tucked in my heart. The beautiful memories stamped like handprints on my heart. I only hope that until I make it to my next ASF gathering, the feeling that I leave behind with my ASF family, when they conjure me up in their memories (hopefully YOUR memories – I hope some of you darlings are reading this), some of that love is what they feel, even after these words fade.

Second: “You love somebody, and then you don't love them anymore. But if you really love somebody,
You always love them, don't you? Isn't there always some small part of you that reads their horoscope in the paper every day?”

This one is simpler to explain. While I don’t put my stock in horoscopes, I believe that when you love someone in any capacity you’re stuck with them. Years from now, even when the memory of that person’s face or voice starts to fade, the love you carry with you comes with mindfulness for them. For wherever you are and wherever they are and however long ago it was you last spoke, you still always wish them well.

I leave South Africa on Monday night with the fondest of memories and heart that’s swelled in size to make room for all the handprints.