Franklin´s Choice, Vol. 2

Well, it´s that time of the month again. On second thought, maybe I should say that differently. It´s now time for October´s official Franklin-prompted reflection of the month. This month, my mission (the acceptance of which is not optional) is to think about the concept of "mission" and how it applies to my context here in Uruguay as a YAGM.

Coming up with a precise definition of my "mission" here is not an easy task, but at the same time, I don´t want to fall into the trap of saying that my "ministry of presence" doesn´t have specific focii, purposes, and (to use the word-of month) a "mission." Of course, we´re all missionaries in our own ways - we all, ultimately, answer God´s call and act toward the purposes that God gives us. Sometimes, that call and subsequent mission doesn´t take a person farther, physically, than their home town and ordinary life. Sometimes, that call plants you along the Rio de la Plata, doing things you never once saw yourself doing.

Last month, I talked a good deal about knowing that I am where I´m supposed to be. Defining purpose, though, is sometimes much more difficult. I´ve, by now, lost count of how many days I´ve come in from La Obra, asking myself how on earth I can do the tasks I´m given, or not given. That, for me, is where the idea of presence comes in. Some days, I have no greater call or purpose than just to be physically present at La Obra, or at Mision San Juan, or at the church, and see where God takes the day. Sometimes, it feels like I don´t get taken very far - "woo-hoo, I spent 5 hours at work, and all I did was spell "window" for someone, grab a box off a shelf for someone, and give three piggy-back rides." The temptation on these days to drift toward meaningless, toward the ultimate abyss of human thought, is sometimes fairly strong. Did I make a difference? Is this going to be the next 300 days of my life? Do I, and the things that I do, ultimately MATTER?

In the midst of questions and doubt, though, God tends to come. God, for me, doesn´t come in the crass reasoning I try to employ to deflect the questions - "butterfly effect" arguments about how every action ultimately changes reality no matter how small it is. Using logic like that, I´ve found, only creates extended existential mind-wars, the axis of Sartre and Heidegger versus Barth, Moltmann, and Kevin. Instead, what I find much more useful is revelation, the uncovering of things hidden from my reason by human capacity to look only at the surface and no deeper. Spelling "window" helped a junior high student with their English homework. Grabbing a box off the top shelf helped Lili and Virginia continue setting up the big discount clothing sale. Giving those piggy-back rides helped those three kids to smile, laugh, and enjoy themselves. I help people, whether I realize it or not, and ultimately, that´s what mission is all about - it´s about washing feet, it´s about serving where you are and where you can. It´s about living with people and for people, not just for yourself and your own intimates.

It´s not easy, either, and not just because of the doubts and the questions, those subtle little barbs of the Enemy. Sometimes, it´s hard because of not having clue one how to do certain things - speak the language, teach the kids, play the music. However, God comes to those doubts, too, practical as they may be, and gives us those moments of grace and revelation that somehow empower us to keep going - the realization, when I woke up this morning, that for two nights in a row know I´ve been dreaming in Spanish more than English, and that the kids remember things I´ve said and (get this) fight to sit next to me sometimes, and that I figured out two of the songs from last Sunday´s worship on my guitar in less than 15 minutes of playing around with them. It´s been said to the point of cliché, but it still bears repeating for its truth - God doesn´t call the equipped; God equips the called.