October 14, 2012 Proper 23B by
Bob King
Amos 5:6-7, 10-15; Mark 10:17-31
When we decided to follow our
retreat experience with a focus on mission today, neither Kate nor I had yet
checked the lectionary readings. It can
only be the work of the Holy Spirit that we’re given Amos and Jesus’ encounter
with the rich young man. Certainly for
me, these two bits of scripture capture both the essence, and the fear of what
it means to be a Christian in our world.
Kate asked me to share with you
my vision of Redeemer’s mission. The
most revealing way to do that is with two stories. The first story is not mine, but had perhaps
the greatest influence in my life on my sense of church. I was brought up in an Episcopal parish not
so different from Redeemer: good people, emotionally satisfying worship, and a
sense of caring for children. And yet I
always felt something was missing.
Then
in my late teen years, I read Elizabeth O’Connor’s two books about the Church
of Our Savior in Washington. The first
book, Call to Commitment, recounts
the early experiences of the ecumenical church Gordon and Mary Cosby and seven
of their friends started in 1947 to recreate the experience of early Christianity without the baggage of
denominational structures and cultural biases.
It was to be radically diverse, incorporating both the privileged and
the poor and bound by a covenant to love one another and the world. A hallmark of the new church was and
remains its willingness to adapt new structures, which in just the first ten years
evolved from being centered on their School of Christian Living, to fellowship
groups, to mission groups. The members
recognized three functions necessary for the vital life of a these groups: nurturing of its members, service to the
world, and carrying the Good News to others, which they did mostly by example,
not words. O’Connor’s second book, Journey Inward, Journey Outward,
preaches the essential interplay between spiritual growth and service. You’ll recognize that we co-opted the title
of this book as our theme for this year’s retreat.
The second story is more
personal. The year was 1979, the
aftermath of the Vietnam War. Mary Etta
and I had been at Redeemer for two years, our daughter Robin was two, and we were
planning for another child in a year. I
was home on a rainy Saturday morning when I got a call from Judy Gilman, a
Lexington resident and senior warden at St Andrews, a small parish in
Belmont. She had become committed to
sponsoring a refugee family and was looking for help from other parishes. She said there would be a meeting at St
Andrews in late morning. Having worked
a lot of short days to help with child care, I had planned to go into MIT that
morning, and couldn’t think of any excuse not to stop by Belmont on my way
home. There were five of us at the
meeting: besides Judy and me, two young adults from Good Shepherd Watertown,
and Gail Barbour, a Lexington resident and member of All Saints Belmont. Gail
was the key because she had offered to have the refugee family stay in her home
until they could find suitable housing.
All they needed me to do (or so I thought) was to stand up in church the
next day and ask for clothes, furniture, and cash. It was Palm Sunday, but our rector Ted
Petterson had no reservation about injecting my plea into the service. That morning, and in the days afterward, I
was overwhelmed with the response. Many
people offered clothes and furniture.
My most memorable moment, however, was when a young woman, new to the
parish and just out of graduate school, gave me a check for $1000, quite a lot
of money in that day and from someone in her circumstances.
We got the name of the Vietnamese
family we were to sponsor soon afterward and spent the summer making
connections with the Vietnamese community in Boston, including one family in
Lexington who had been sponsored by Temple Isaiah. In August we had a large gathering at Good
Shepherd to plan for the imminent arrival of our family, but Judy had learned
just that day that they had decided to settle on the west coast, where they had
relatives. Church World Service asked if
we would take a Cambodian family instead.
We said yes and scrambled to locate the very few Cambodians living at
that time in the Boston area. When the
family arrived, the Minuteman ran a story, and people from all over town
wanted to help. The core group of
supporters were from St Brigid’s, Temple Isaiah, First Parish, Lexington United
Methodist, Hancock, and Redeemer, so what started out a an effort of four
Episcopal Churches quickly became ecumenical.
Most remarkably, the team of people supporting the family became the
mission group I had yearned for.
Unconsciously, we adopted the structural flexibility that made the
Church of Our Savior successful. We
called ourselves the Lexington Ecumenical Resettlement Coalition (LERC), a
formal-sounding organization that no legal status and made decisions by
consensus or in pairs on faith. Peggy
Wright, Redeemer’s senior warden, was a
strong supporter and our liaison with the Vestry. Bob Howard, the junior warden and
semi-retired, became the person the families could count on for transportation
and driving lessons. Marty Kvaal from
First Parish, who worked for HEW, became our interface with the government
bureaucracy. Shortly after the first
family arrived Bob and Fran Ludwig from St Brigids’ offered to take a second
family into their home; Edie and Dick Ruquist offered to take a third.
Over the next seven years, we
brought thirteen Cambodian families to Lexington, and in the twenty six years
following, we have watched with awe as they adapted to American life, starred
on the high school soccer team, made friends with and married European
Americans, graduated from college, ran small businesses, and served in
Afghanistan. There is of course much more to the story, but I’ve told you
enough to help you understand that mission for me is not a program but a
response to a call, often unexpected and unwelcomed. Judy, perhaps in collusion with the Holy
Spirit, made my response to her phone call too easy. If Jesus himself had told me that morning
that saying yes meant involving me and my young family in the lives of thirty
Cambodian Americans and their friends for the next 33 years, I, like the young
rich man, would have walked away in sadness.
Walked away because I was not willing to give up the security of my
nuclear family and close-knit circle of friends, nor risk taking time away from
my young career. In sadness, however, because I would have lost an opportunity
to engage more deeply in God’s work in the world. In truth, my role in the
resettlement effort was less than that of at least a half-dozen other
people---a lot of hand-holding, some bookkeeping, a connection to Redeemer and
its resources, But last summer in a scene reminiscent of George Bailey’s
encounter with his guardian angel in It’s
a Wonderful Life, I was deeply moved when Bun Hor Tan pointed to the crowd
at the wedding of his youngest daughter and told me that if it weren’t for me
and several other people in the room, none of us would be there that night.
So my first vision for Redeemer
is that we recognize that mission at its essence is matching our individual and
corporate gifts to the needs of the world.
And that means listening to the voice of the Holy Spirit. Sometimes that voice comes quickly and
unexpectedly. Sometimes we need to have
great patience. The Church of Our Savior
didn’t launch its first real outreach mission until ten years after its
founding, and two years after building a retreat center. Our own retreat two weeks ago, which many of
us thought would focus on the journey outward, instead provided the opportunity
to deepen our relationships and discover anew the importance of having a
community committed to supporting one another, especially across generations.
My second vision for Redeemer is
that we continue to make use of our infrastructure and resources to serve those
who are not yet our members. We have
been remarkable stewards of our building.
It’s used seven days and at least six nights almost every week, in each
case serving a genuine need of the community---a gathering place for worship
and formation for us and the Korean congregation, child care, a food pantry,
cell-phone transmission, two AA groups, and groups for weight-loss and support for
widows and widowers. The rents brought
in by some of these groups roughly covers our utilities and maintenance of the
building, so the building is in no sense a financial drain on our mission. I find that very comforting, and I’m
grateful to our forebears of fifty years ago for sacrificing to create this
resource. If we take the building out of
the equation, most of our giving goes to support the salaries of our
staff. There too, I think we have
apportioned our resources wisely, with levels of commitment that enable us to
carry out our mission effectively. It’s
also reassuring that the ministry of our staff is firmly rooted in
mission. Kate entered the priesthood
from a largely African American church in New York City, and before that
volunteered in a homeless shelter. Bernadette spent her time away from us
earlier this year sharing music with AIDS orphans in South Africa. Danielle brings a keen sense of what it means
to match gifts with ministry, particularly for the young.
I am also pleased to see that in
mission, as in other aspects of parish life, we have shown organizational
flexibility. What is now the “Mission
Committee” began eight years ago as a visionary group of five people who
gathered for study and reflection of what it would mean for Redeemer to become
a truly missional church in the way that Christopher Duraisingh has described
for us. We now define our membership,
roughly, as the forty people on our email list, 8-12 of which meet on a regular
basis to coordinate schedules and the budget we submit to the vestry each year.
Our corporate outreach is focused in eight mission teams, each functioning
under a different structure informed by its composition, frequency of activity
and relationship to external groups.
What works for Carolyn Wortman and her ecumenical team of leaders and
volunteers at the Food Pantry will be different from what works for Redeemer’s
knitters and the teams that serve Bristol Lodge, the Grow Clinic, Habitat, the
Giving Gardens, and Esperanza. The El
Hogar team, though working through an outside organization, functions more
intensely than the other teams as a group that plans and prays together,
actively seeks out the gifts of its members, and deals in love with the
conflicts that inevitably arise when people work closely together. It is the work of the El Hogar team, I think,
that has been most transformational in the lives of parishioners recent
years. Thirty-five of our members have
made the trip to Honduras, including 11
of our youth.
My fourth hope for Redeemer is
that we will become more deeply committed to sharing our wealth with those in
greater need. We currently give about
$50,000 of our fund-raising and gifts in cash and kind to our mission efforts. One piece of that is the opportunity, five or
six times a year, to use mission envelopes in the pews to make a direct
contribution---you can do that today and next week for our Habitat teams that
will work in Lawrence this coming Saturday.
Perhaps its time to talk about making this type of giving even more
intentional, by more effective reminders to bring our checkbooks those Sundays,
or instituting a mission pledge for the year.
An important aspect of this means of giving is to help the parish
discern what missions we should continue to support. Thus far, for example, a
relatively small number of people have done hands-on work with Habitat or
Esperanza, but if the number of people supporting this work financially is
large, this becomes an affirmation for these mission teams.
My last vision is that we find
among us more folks with a gift for public advocacy on behalf of those who need
a helping hand. When she spoke to us a
few years ago, Dr Deborah Frank, founder and director of the Grow Clinic,
retold the story of children floating down a river and being rescued one by one
until it occurred to someone to find out why they were being tossed in the
river in the first place. For better or
for worse, in America today public policy and funding play a crucial role in
serving the needs of the poor. That’s
true for the Grow Clinic and Bristol Lodge, as it was true for the refugee
resettlement effort. There is no
stronger voice for social justice in scripture than prophet Amos. He doesn’t waste words on personal piety
when it’s evident that entire nations are beset by systemic corrupt
practices. When we speaks of
establishing “justice at the gate”, he is referring to the halls of power, for
it was at the city gate that the city’s rulers met to set policy and hold court
for grievances. He rails against a
political system that allows the rich to have lavish houses and overtaxes the
poor. Redeemer’s Evelyn Hausslein has
over many years learned to an effective advocate at the local, state, and
national level for disabled children.
Last spring she took a group of ten of us, including Kate, to the State
House to join Witnesses for Hunger and talk with our representatives about our
concerns. I was moved by what we heard from the women who described their
efforts to balance work and child care on meager salaries, perhaps less so by
the legislative leaders who spoke, and I didn’t feel personally empowered by
having made the trip. I did find hope
for our impact, however, when Lance Conrad, who you may know is Head of School
at Chapel Hill Chauncy Hall, made a meaningful connection with Representative
Tom Stanley, from Waltham. I sensed that
Lance’s voice is one that will be heard, whether the issue is education,
hunger, or homelessness.
That’s my vision of Redeemer’s
mission. What’s yours? Will you join the conversation downstairs,
where we’ll hear from Jim Bradley and Elaine Quinlan, two relative newcomers to
the parish about what part mission played in their joining us, and from Jessie
Maeck, who has spent much of her long tenure at Redeemer wrestling with these
questions.
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