Words Like Accompaniment

This past week has been a wonderful roller coaster.  I had the insane privilege of meeting 12 fellow "missionaries" who are all preparing for their own crazy adventures over the next year (or three).

Photo by Jenna B.

Now I say "missionaries" in quotations not because I doubt their credibility as "missionaries," but because I don't consider myself a part of the pack.  You see, most people at this conference are giving up their families, friends, loved ones, and congregations to teach or volunteer for a year or more of Global Mission.  It would discredit these fine people to say I am doing the same.

But there is a sense in which I will be a missionary for the next year.  Internship is a little bit different than what most other are doing with Global Missions (I am in an established English-speaking congregation in a large city), but I have already been sucked into the language and mindset of missionary work within the ELCA.

I've learned how to use words like accompaniment, mission, solidarity, inclusivity, mutuality, vulnerability, sustainability, and empowerment when talking about what the Church does and how they do it.

We have learned so much and we have so much left to learn, but what has impacted me the most is the bond that has formed between us in this short amount of time.  It is so comforting to know that as Daniel and I travel this next year, we will not be alone.  We will simply be joining the stories of all the missionaries who have gone before us, walking with the missionaries sent out this year, and paving the way for missionaries who will come after us.

Photo by Jenna B at The Bean in Chicago, IL

Saying goodbye to the rest of this group is bound to be full of heartbreak (as was saying goodbye to the two people who already left this week).  But I am so thankful for this community and the support that we will provide for one another over the next few years as we continue, end, and start seminary education, as we figure out what in the world we are doing with our lives, and as we journey with one another and Christ into the unknown and ever-exciting field of Global Mission.

Death

"Well, you're here. So that must mean something, right?"

This was said in the sermon on Monday morning - the first day of the Global Missions new personnel orientation.  And a couple of us have really latched onto it.

Well, we're here. So that must mean something, right?

I'm in Naperville, Illinois (a suburb of Chicago) for the next week and a half with twelve other missionaries.  And it's terrifying.

Some of us were called here by God. Some of us were looking for something different, something with meaning and ended up here. Some of us were (literally) called by Global Missions to come and serve. And (I think I can speak for everyone) we are a little freaked out. I think we are all freaked out about something a little bit different (if we admit it).

I'm mostly concerned about dying.

Last night, after sitting in safety seminars and health seminars all day, I went back to my room and wrote up my Last Will and Testament, Living Will, and Power of Attorney.  And that made me feel a little bit better, but to be honest, that's not the kind of dying I'm afraid of.

I have pretty much accepted the physical dangers missionary work might expose me to.  I'm also pretty aware of how mortal I am.  I'm not one of those twentysomethings who believe that they are invincible.  I'm also not afraid of dying.  I have a similar mentality as Paul: it would be better for me to die and be with my God, but I'll probably stick around before seeking any sort of martyrdom.

However, I'm pretty freaked out about the other ways I am going to have to die (and be risen).

As a 23 year old, I'm not unfamiliar with this process. As a Christian, I'm not unfamiliar with the implications.  And as a Lutheran, I'm not unfamiliar with the insane amount of grace in the process.

I have died many times over in the past couple of years. Mostly because there have been a lot of changes around me, but also because a lot of things have changed within me.

I'm not a child anymore, but I'm not an old person yet either.  This is a time of change, a time of challenge, and a time of re-creation. I have re-created myself over and over again through the years.  And God has been working on it too.

But when I say "re-creation," I don't mean what some of you might be imagining - molding a clay jar into a bowl, or reusing paper products in coffee cups. I mean something more like smashing a clay bowl on the ground and stitching it back together with putty, glue, and gold leaf.  I mean something that feels a bit more like being a piece of paper torn, chewed up, and blown out of a straw as a spitball.

I have died in the last few years.  Parts of me, whole parts of me, entire pieces of my personality, have died.  Terrible parts, angry parts, proud parts, ugly parts - they have died over these past couple of years.

But there's a whole lot left to die in me.  And to be honest, I'm terrified.

There's a lot of ugly, proud, angry, terrible parts of me that still need some work.  In fact, they need more than work - they need to die.  And it's going to hurt.  It's not going to be pretty.  I'm going to resist it and hold onto those ugly parts for as long as I can.  Because death scares me.

But I'm here, so that must mean something, right?

Either I'm crazy or I know that something else happens in the death of those ugly parts of me.  (I'll give you a hint: it's the second one.)

I know that when the ugly parts of me die, it allows room for new, beautiful things to be risen by Christ.  I know that God is working through the death and resurrection within me.

I know that God does not just let things die (even the ugly things) without some sort of re-creation.  I trust that when I'm failing, flailing, and being downright wrong, God will provide enough grace to keep me above water.  I believe that Christ's resurrection is a clear and beautiful foretaste of our own resurrection at the end of time. It is the most incredible example of what God has done, what God continues to do, and what God will do until the end of time. 

So that's why I'm here. Because I'm really scared of death and I know that this year of mission is surely going to kill me. And God is surely going to resurrect in me the things that need resurrection. So that must mean something, right?