We keep forgetting

"If you have come to 'help' me, you are wasting your time.

But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine,

then let us walk together."

Lila Watson

Australian aboriginal woman

 ~~~~~~~

 Melanie sent us off from Emmanuel early Saturday morning with these words;

words that have continued to echo in our personal reflections and group conversations.

Why are we here?

Why do we keep coming back?

What do we hope to accomplish on a short term mission trip

in the face of so much poverty;

not simply economic poverty
but emotional and spiritual poverty as well.

On the night we arrived, 

in our first conversation with Mother Lauren
(priest in charge of Rosebud Mission),

we learned that a teenager hung herself last week on church property,

not far from the dorm where we stay.

There have already been 3 suicide attempts among her peers.

In the coming week, Lauren will officiate at 6 funerals.

While standing in the check out line at the grocery store after church,

employees told us about a shooting at the apartment complex 

right down the street
and the suicide of a co-worker last weekend.

By almost any measurable standard,

this is a hard place to live.

We can see the natural beauty and

feel the deep reverence the Lakota for their land;
its part of their heritage,

 a way of viewing the earth as a gift
given to them by the Creator.

We can see,
and have been recipients of,
Lakota generosity and hospitality.

We've been welcomed into Lakota homes
and, by virtue of being "the group that comes back",
we've shared the privilege of knowing, on a personal lovel,
many of our partner families
and been known in return.

We've been able to develop and sustain relationships
that last throughout the years,
despite distance and different lifestyles
through trips beyond our Mission week, social media, telephone and email.

As true representatives of the dominant culture, however,
we love the finished tasks -
the houses built,
the number of windows installed,
the home repair 'punch lists' completed,
the fences installed and stained.

A 'Mission accomplished" sign
and a photo op of our team
in front of something tangible
to show the parish during our annual presentation.

The trouble with "Mission Accomplished" is that it rarely is;
houses need upkeep,
windows break and
fences are vandalized.

If we measure the success of a mission trip only
in terms of the physical outcome of our manual labor,
we are bound to be disappointed,
and then possibly resentful and,
when that happens,
it's easy to buy into the narrative
that all our efforts are merely band-aids;
that, no matter what we do,
we'll never solve the 'root causes'
of poverty, injustice and discrimination.

I noticed an undercurrent of futility in our discussions this week.

I was delighted when I was asked to do a 'routine' chore inside the office,
rather than work outside in the near 100 degree heat.

Not exciting work, not anything likely to change any lives,
you know, a band aid.

I was only 30 minutes into the task when I flipped over a pile of receipts from 2009 -
and this prayer, in bold letters,
practically shouted my name!
 ~~~~~~~
It helps, now and then, to step back and take the long view.
The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is beyond our vision.

We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of
the magnificent enterprise that is Gods work.
Nothing we do is complete, which is another way of saying
that the kingdom always lies beyond us.

No statement says all that could be said.
No prayer fully expresses our faith.
No confession brings perfection.
No pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No program accomplishes the church's mission.
No set of goals and objectives includes everything.

This is what we're about: We plant seeds that one day will grow.
We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.
We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces effects beyond our capabilities.

We cannot do everything
and there is a sense of liberation in that.
This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.
It may be incomplete, but it's a beginning, a step along the way,
an opportunity for God's grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results,
but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker.
We are workers, not master builders, ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future not our own.
Amen

Oscar Romero.
~~~~~~~

A coincidence that this reminder turned up when it did?

No, I don't think so either.