It was just last Sunday
that seven of us left in the middle of worship for a service trip to Maine
Seacoast Mission in Cherryfield, Maine.
All of you blessed us (and the two others who would meet us there). You blessed our hats and work gloves piled on
the altar as well. You sent us on our
way to the strains of what has become our mission trip “send off song”, “Here I
Am, Lord.”
As we walked down the
center aisle, some of you smiled, and some of you (and us) had tears in our
eyes. Some of you shook our hands, and
others of you gave us high fives. For
all of us leaving, it was a most powerful experience. And finally, after five years of your sending
us forth, I, as your pastor, felt that this time we were not a group of
individuals going off to do our service thing while the rest of you finished up
worship and went home to live your own lives for a week.
This time, I felt that we
were really representing this church family – and that somehow at least some of
you understood that connection between us.
In a symbolic sense, all of you were part of the team. In a mystical sort of way, each one of you
cleaned and swept and mucked and painted and took down and built up right along
side us. All of us feel blessed by the notes
(some of them humorous and some of them downright inspiring) that you sent with
us. We feel blessed by the little ways
that you remembered us – sending a photo or an email that reminded us that we
were being prayed for.
But most of all we feel blessed
by having the first hand experience of helping and sharing ourselves with folks
who live in one of the most impoverished counties not only in Maine but in our
entire nation – blessed by that but also by the camaraderie and caring everyone
in our group had for each other – the deep discussions that arose out of our
evening reflections, the one-on-one conversations we had throughout the week,
waking up to the smell of the coffee Chuck already had going each morning,
making the most delicious ice cream sundaes with the array of ingredients that
Tracie bought on the spur of the moment.
One of us wrote in our
journal, “Let’s start with why I’m here this year. Part of the reason is my continued desire to
be of service to others face to face.
Part of the reason or inspiration came from listening to James Taylor at
Fenway Park recently sing his song “Shed a Little Light.” For me, it has to do with “shed a little
light by going out and serving and meeting people - find the human connection in addition to doing
something to help. The key for me is to
reflect on this at least daily.”
Some of us had been to
Maine Seacoast Mission on previous mission trips. “We’re home again,” wrote one of us. “A new day, new way to give of myself,
perhaps something very new.” So much for the old timers, but one of us was new,
and she came with all the doubts and reservations the rest of us had our first
time there.
“I feel like I am in high
school again. The comfort with myself
that I’ve gained in my 40’s has slipped away.
Where do I fit in? Where do I
belong? But it is not about me. It is not to be about me!”
To which one of us
responded in her journal: “Having a new
person with us has us responding to questions and thinking about things in a
new way and seeing with fresh eyes.
These are reminders of our own discoveries, of questions we have not
asked ourselves.”
Questions like: What is mission? How do you get people to understand that
going on a mission trip does not mean handing out Bibles, proselytizing, to
folks who don’t know better, and believing that we have all the right
answers? Perhaps it should be enough
just to know and affirm that we are “fellow travelers in God’s world…..(There
is a plan) of which I am an infinitesimal part, but try to be helpful.”
However, because we area
church – and not secular – group, we tried to remember whose Gospel message we
were being called to follow, and so, we took a few moments every morning to
center ourselves. One or two of us read
the Scripture verse that I had given to each person last Sunday (and that Joe
read this morning), and I read a Celtic prayer.
We sang a grace before our evening meal together and kept a journal of
our thoughts and reactions, excerpts from which I will continue to share in
this sermon – trying to directly quote as much as possible. We also took time each evening for a group
reflection. This year, that evening hour
became a powerful time to share thoughts and emotions, to question who we were,
why we had come, and just who we were serving.
As we talked about our
experience here in Cherryfield each evening, we focused on a theme. That theme was the humanity of Jesus,
revealed to us last week in body parts.
You see, whatever you
believe about the Incarnation and the divinity of Jesus, you also necessarily
believe that Jesus was a human being.
That knowledge gives me - and all of our team, I think – great hope that
we – even we – will muster up a small amount of the same courage of our
convictions and strength of our faith as Jesus did, so that at times we can do
the things he modeled and taught us – to embrace and love and sometimes even
heal those we encounter, especially those who live in poverty.
And so the first day, our
lens was the hands of Christ, and our task was to clear the clutter from an
attic, knee wall, and upstairs rooms for Lisa who lived on Beal Island, a woman
we figured was in her late fifties with MS.
Once the boxes and baskets and bags were gone, Maine Seacoast Mission
would arrange for insulation to be blown in, so she could be warm this winter.
“Lisa is resolute to be
rid of so much stuff that is so constraining her future. It is oddly satisfying to help her do
so! I spent much of the day excavating a
large pile of waste outside - a decaying projector TV, old tarps so sun-worn
they fall apart as they are moved, old and frail Persian rugs – all evidence of
a former life she no longer wished to live.”
“Lisa had hand and heart
needs that we were able to share very willingly. Probably Jesus never saw this need, but
Matthew in Chapter 25 may have added:” When did we see you with unwanted and
stored belongs and give you an opportunity to make decisions” about what to
keep and what to throw away.
“Lisa’s courage and
determination to go though with the process (of de-cluttering) was
amazing. I don’t think I have ever seen
our group as touched by one of the people we have helped as we were by her.”
But the mission or
ministry was more than just moving boxes of “stuff” into a dumpster. Real ministry was also, we all agreed, what
Traci did so well. The hands of Jesus
were surely her hands as she so patiently held up object after object, china teacups
wrapped in newspaper, a child’s t-shirt, and listened to the stories behind
photographs and Christmas ornaments. The
“detritus” of Lisa’s life passed before her eyes – “children’s games and
stuffed animals and wedding albums that too much reminded her of a bad
marriage.” One of us wrote, “This is not
the work I came for, but that is proving OK – to watch Traci, to realize how
much we are helping this woman (Lisa) – not just to clean out her house but to
clean out her life. So even this
seemingly mundane work is so much more that it seems – typical of what we have
experienced at Maine Seacoast Mission.
“What I learned in that
the longest/hardest part of cleaning out is not the shifting of contents. It is the never-ending review of household
and personal items that reflect a person’s history – so many memories can be
triggered, yet the “job” to be done is about making decisions on keep or send
away.”
And Traci helped our
client do that in such a gentle and compassionate way – that was not lost on
any of our team. As one of us wrote, “I
realized I was being much more practical rather than empathic. I was more about getting it done rather than
recognizing the effect of what we were doing on the life of Lisa.”
Of course, in the end, we
all wondered what our hands had actually done.
Had we really helped? “I am
feeling bad that Lisa is in that empty house now. I’m glad she was able to let go but I am
wondering how she feels now. And why had
no one in her family come to do that for her?
I would never be brave enough to have 8 or 9 people come into my home
and take my stuff away. I wonder if she
kept it so long because she thought it would keep the others in her family
anchored to her? I wonder who will
eventually throw away the things she kept?”
Poverty comes in many
forms but always involves a lack of something – money, food, health,
companionship, – and bad luck
circumstances seem to descend from all directions. “The two women (the second you will hear
about soon) we’ve helped this week own their own homes but lack health…Both
women have college educations so are not poor in ‘smarts’ but maybe in
decision-making.”
Take Lisa: She exchanged a paid for trailer for a
$700.00 mortgage so she could live in a real house. “She married a loser at 26 because she was
worried or scared of becoming a spinster.
No she has become what she has feared – and more with the MS that has
claimed her. Instead of being a healthy
independent spinster, she’s an “I need a home health worker” spinster.”
“When I think of the hands
of Christ, I think of the work we did for Lisa.
I think of trying to shake hands with her. I think of the service we did today.”
Our second day was also a
day of cleaning – but a very different kind of cleaning – and the lens through
we viewed our day was the face of Jesus.
“Today’s need –fulfilled
was for Susan in Gouldsboro. It was a
‘carry for Christ’ and ‘lug for the Lord day!
An enormous dumpster waited in the front yard for contents of the
basement: wet, moldy, unused for a long
time. The dumpster “looked like you
could drive a pick up truck in and still have room.” It was that big – and it was full to
overflowing by the end of our day.
“Unlike Lisa, Sue had not
intended to retain anything.” You see,
the basement was piled high (several feet high) with stuff – crutches, stereos,
clothing, an old couch, garden tools, games, books – and even some little
critters we had not anticipated meeting!
It made us think of all
the possessions we keep. How much of our
“stuff would be better off discarded and tossed into a dumpster. How would our lives be different without all
the “stuff” we insist upon saving and carting around with us as we move through
our lives? Is there value in
simplification?
Sue told us that she had a
four-year period when she could not go down into the basement because of her
knee, which she recently had replaced.
However, as one of us wrote, “the degree of neglect and contagion in the
basement appalled us all. How was it
possible (some of us wondered) for someone to become so passive that he or she
could so completely neglect such a problem?
Theories abounded, but we all concluded – some reluctantly – what we had
two years ago – that this was quite beside the point. It occurred to me that the real issue here
was not the individual effort we made, but rather what our small effort had on
the community impact that Maine Seacoast Mission has had.
For some of our team, it
was hard not to judge our client, Sue.
“Not very Christ-like,” one of us wrote.
“He wouldn’t judge or resent. He
would have been happy to do something for her that she couldn’t do for
herself.” But all I saw was the poor
choices she had made.
“We judge, but we don’t
know the people really. We have a brief
encounter and gain information the client willingly gives yet we don’t know.”
“Nor do we know each other
really – and why we come out where we do with people like our client Sue. Just like our clients, we too have stories
that define who we are and how we react to any situation.”
We discovered also that
even on a mission trip, politics can intervene.
Imagine, one of us wrote: “This
woman was an avowed Tea Party member (with Tea Party slogan and a “Don’t Tread
on Me” flag hanging in her kitchen). And
here she had a largely socially progressive group mucking out her
basement.” Another of us wrote, “I knew
coming up here I would be working in the homes of people who had supported
Donald Trump. But I saw his lawn signs
go into her dumpster, knowing that he would never ever clean out a basement
like that. “
And so, in our own ways,
we reflected on how easy it is to see the face of Jesus in some people but not
so easy in others. And yet, “it is so
easy to judge one another. Yet, we do
not know, can’t really know what Sue’s life has been like to bring her to this
point of having something akin to a landfill in her basement. That being said, we also do not know the
stories of one another – the emotions and experiences and memories through
which we view and evaluate circumstances like Sue’s. Surely that is why we differ in our opinions
and struggle to understand one another.
But in the end, whether we
agree or not on whether he basement should have gotten to the point it did, “we
recognize the need (theirs and ours) , and so we serve, all believing that even
in the smallest ways we can still make a difference. And who knows? Maybe a powerful difference – either in a
moment or over a long time.” The face of Jesus surely melds with all our faces
– our clients, our own. Sometimes it is
just a wee bit difficult to find and focus in on.
As one of us summarized
her own feelings: “There was a job to
do. Follow up is needed for the health of the inhabitants and the house itself,
but our feelings are beside the point.
Matthew 25 might add: ‘When did
we clean out your ugly basement? When
you cleaned one for the least of these, you did it for me.”
Our next day focused on
the feet of Jesus. For some of us that
meant trooping up to the food pantry and putting together weekend backpacks for
local families. These are food baskets
for local families to tide them over the weekend until their kids can get
school lunches. This week there were
fixin’s for tuna casserole, juice, canned pears, etc. We made about 70 boxes, assembly line
style.
In the afternoon, after
having said goodbye to four members of our group, we beat feet out to Schoodic
Point, an arm of Acadia National Park – a beautiful rocky coastal area. It was
a good day to just let go of all that had happened the first two days of our
trip.: “Two days, two jobs. Lots of similarities and lots of
differences. Cleaning out an attic one
day, a basement the next. And that would
describe our emotions at the end of the days.
So up one day, although sad circumstances. And then down at the end of the basement
job.
But there was something
about the ocean – the remnants of Hurricane Irma causing big waves and
spectacular surf and spray that went many feet tall, putting on a good
show. One of us wrote, “The power and
beauty of the pounding surf seemed to erase the mess of the mold and (whatnot)
from the day before. Somehow cleansing
and therapeutic.” A perfect time to be
away! “We had a great time playing
tourist” as one of our team noted.
“Terrific surf! Always amazed by
the power of the sea.”
The lens through which we
viewed our final day of work was breath – or spirit – as both words come from
the same Greek root. And so we asked
ourselves just how the Spirit of God revealed itself to us this week – and
discovered that it was in both simple and complex ways.
This final day of work
exposed us to yet another type of work that Maine Seacoast Mission does. Some of us dismantled a lovely new home set
right on the edge of the cliff in a development of new homes for people who
were clearly not financially burdened like so many of the people in the
area. Is this the beginning of a rural
gentrification process? People coming in
to snap up the picturesque coastal land for a song? And what will that do to the social fabric of
the community that Maine Seacoast Mission has tried so hard to both create and
strengthen? “I hope that the community
Seacoast has spawned and the awareness these service trips create will not be
for naught.”
And why were we
dismantling a plastic shed and moving it to Maine Seacoast property? We were clearly working with a donor to the
mission, one of those people who support the work of the Mission financially,
thereby allowing them to expand and refine their programs. Not like cleaning out a basement or doing
skirting on a trailer, but important just the same. And also a chance to collaborate and work
together – like doing a jigsaw puzzle, figuring out just how to dismantle and
rebuild – a great example of good old-fashioned teamwork.
While some of the team was
working with the shed, two others painted the living room floor of an elderly
(and very talkative) couple. Both in
their mid-eighties, Janice assured us that she would have painted it herself,
but she just can’t “get down there” anymore.
Instead she and her husband prepared some cucumbers we had brought for
pickles and nattered as only a couple married for 56 years can get away with. Yet again, they made us realize that, though
the work of the mission (painting, cleaning, mucking) is important, talking
with the homeowners and hearing their stories is just as important – and
perhaps is where some of the real ministry lies.
Hands, face, feet, and
breath: That summarized our week in
Cherryfield. Perhaps it was not what we
expected because the scope of work was smaller than in mid-summer when we have
come in previous years. One of us even
wrote, “This week’s mission is not looking as productive or ‘useful’ as past
years. Hopefully, it is because we are
here at the end of the season an not because they don’t have faith in our
skills.”
Perhaps our week was not
grounded in construction and building up, but was more tearing down and getting
rid of all the stuff that burdens you and ties you down. But in the end, it was mission – and it was
what we came to do.
“Sad to see the week
end. We have had a good time together,
but I think we are all ready to get home to our own beds and showers.”
“I am thankful that we
have a team comprised of people who keep on working and get the job done!”
“I am already hoping I get
to do this again next year. So thank you
for inviting me. Thank you for
persisting….”
“Despite the media
bringing us most negative news, I know that many people give labor to help
others, like this year’s group – Nancy, Joe, Judy, Caryl, Chuck, Traci, Jim,
Marie, and I. I am thankful for so many
things in this community and location.”
We challenged one another
– and we challenged ourselves. “I am
proud of myself for putting myself ‘out there’ to connect with the clients in
each place…more so each day. This is not
my norm. I pushed myself to do this.”
I am always hoping that
more people will join us next year. This
is such a wonderful opportunity to take the church beyond the four walls of the
sanctuary. It is such a wonderful way to
be “of service”, which is what Jesus challenged each one of us to do. As one of us wrote, “Come on, next year – so
we can gather and work and cook and laugh again.”
“It feels good to be part
of this group again. An easy
camaraderie, lots of laughs, as well as a real interest and respect for each
other. As I tend to do this every other
year, I realize what I have missed in my off year.”
“I
appreciated the opportunity to join friends from the Raymond Village Church and
the warm welcome I received from them in Cherryfield. I appreciated the
leadership of the individuals who planned and organized this service mission
experience…and - it's very nice to know that two home owners will be warmer in
their homes this winter in part due to the volunteer work of our team.”
“In
summary, a very good week – a new life joined and enriched us, different work
to challenge us, wonderful messages from RVCC to encourage and enrich us, good
food (to prepare and to eat), new and deeper and open conversations to
enlighten us, and scripture readings and reflections to guide and ground and
surprise us. Aren’t we lucky?”
“I’m very pleased that
RVCC made the trip and that I was able to join for the three nights sleeping, eating,
meditating, chatting….together in Jesus’ name.”
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