April 2007
Costa Rica
As each community had their own schedule of worship services, I had to choose carefully to try to get the most in. My cousin, Mallory, was visiting from Mexico for the week (she is there on a study-abroad program for the semester) so we had to make a little time for some R&R/travel, too.
Thursday night the community of Paso Ancho (comprised of those who attend the bi-weekly �Inclusive Service�) welcomed the nearby community of San Sebastian for a joint service for the washing of feet. It was a beautiful service in the typical style of the Inclusive Services with dim lighting, lots of candles, and chairs arranged in a circle so as to include everyone. I didn�t take part in the actual washing of the feet ritual as I provided background music by playing the cello. As the service ended with the stripping of the altar, it began the series of services to follow, which would end with the celebration of the resurrection on Easter Sunday.
On Good Friday Mallory and I headed up to Alajuelita for the Via Cruz � a Stations of the Cross walk through the community. A group of fifteen or so walked through the community stopping at designated houses along the way to commemorate Jesus� journey to the cross. Pastor Justo led by the event by inviting us to make each station relevant to current realities of the world. For example, at the station involving Mary we prayed for women around the world who suffer from oppression, domestic violence, and sexual exploitation. As we carried the cross through the Dos Pinos community of homes precariously made from scraps of aluminum, it was not hard to realize that there are many in our world today who are suffering and are persecuted. We completed the walk in the church with a reading of the crucifixion, and Justo again reminded us to interpret this text in the reality of the world around us; to make the story relevant and present in our everyday lives and remember those who are crucified daily. I was struck with how this exercise (placing the cross in the realities of my day-to-day world) would result in something completely different for me as a person of privilege than for others in the room who themselves fight to meet basic needs of housing, food, and education for their children.
We then hurried from Alajuelita to San Sebastian where I was to accompany them with music for the service. Pastor Katarina led this community, comprised of members of the middle class, in pounding in nails on a cross for the various populations who suffer persecution today. She was calling us to reflect upon the relevance of the crucifixion today, just as Justo had done in Alajuelita. Yet, just as I had realized about the worlds of difference between my reality and the reality of those in Alajuelita, the community in San Sebastian, though still afflicted with economical difficulties, also lives in a more privileged situation than the community of Alajuelita. As we prayed for women forced into degrading labor so as to provide for their children, people living with addictions to drugs, and families without a roof over their heads, there was a separation from these realities for the community in San Sebastian that wasn�t present in the community of Alajuelita. How distant are we, then, in middle-class United States churches, when we pray for these vulnerable populations?
On Easter Sunday Mallory and I traveled to the Sarapiqui region for celebration in the Chilamate community. It was the community�s first Sunday service so the numbers were small, but the church was beautifully decorated with fresh tropical flowers picked from the community.
So now we find ourselves in the present, in the post-resurrection time. This first Sunday after the resurrection we read the Emmaus story. I attended church in the community of San Sebastian. As is the custom in San Sebastian and many ILCO congregations, the Pastor (Katarina) led by offering her own reflection on the gospel text and then invited others to share, as well.
We discussed how Christ was found in the face of a stranger to the two travelers, and how difficult it can be to see Christ in the most vulnerable. Just as how on Good Friday we contemplated the crucifixion in the context of those who are crucified in our society today, we look to see the manifestation of Christ in all people around us. Yet it can be difficult to truly see Christ in the drug addict, the abusive father, and the sex worker when they are in our presence and we are overcome with our own prejudices and fears. Luke writes that, �they [the travelers] were kept from recognizing him [Jesus].� In the Biblical account the two travelers were kept from seeing Jesus for reasons we do not know, but today it is often our own arrogance and lack of compassion and empathy that keep us from recognizing Christ in our neighbors. Returning to the Good Friday reflection, again I ponder: how much easier seeing Christ in our neighbors may be for some of us living in affluent neighborhoods were most everyone we know is similar to us. We then do not have any fear of what is different or unknown or not understood, as our day-to-day encounters are with other middle-class, working folk, often even of our same race and ethnicity.
But when does this revelation occur? When do the travelers recognize who is in their midst? It is in the breaking of the bread, the sharing of a meal. The travelers said, �Stay with us, for it is nearly evening: the day is almost over,� and set a place for him at their table. When they have spent the afternoon with him, invited him in, and set a place for him at their table that their eyes are opened.
Many of you may be familiar with the term �accompaniment� and may know that one of the Biblical backings for idea of accompaniment is this Emmaus story. The ELCA calls its members and missionaries to live the accompaniment model for global mission. What this means is that, in relationships between the ELCA and the companion churches, mission is mutual, gifts are both sent and received, there is recognition that all Christians have gifts to share, and companions share in decision-making while primary responsibility for mission belongs to the local church. This mission model may seem abstract, but it has a profound effect on how we view churches around the world.
When many of us think about going on a �mission trip� we may think of �bringing Christ� to those we meet and we may focus on building a church, a well, or a new school. This has been the traditional understanding of mission and, as members of a church that has been in existence for centuries in an economically rich and powerful country, it can be easy for us to see what we can give. Accompaniment, however, challenges this perspective.
Accompaniment calls us to look at the relationship between ourselves and our companion church as a mutual relationship of equals. We are no more �bringing Christ� to our companions than they are �bringing Christ� to us. Christ is not something one side has and the other does not; Christ is everywhere. And it is not just that Christ is somewhere and the people are unaware. It is important to keep in mind that these are companion church relationships; these are fellow Lutheran Christians with whom we are in a relationship.
Similarly, while our church in the United States may be rich in financial resources, there is much we have to receive from our companion churches. I believe many congregations and synods have a lot that they can learn from the ILCO, especially noting ILCO�s holistic mission and vision of �being church� and �living the gospel� in the midst of the realities of the country. Yet when we come on a �mission trip� focused solely on leaving behind some new infrastructure, we often miss our opportunity to receive the gifts the companion church has to give.
In the Emmaus story, Jesus first walks alongside the travelers and listens to them. Jesus has much to offer, but he opens himself up to receive. Likewise, it was when the travelers spent time with Jesus and set a place for him that their eyes were opened to see the gift of the presence of Christ at their table. This is what we should keep in mind when on mission trips: listening, walking together, spending time together, truly sharing, and setting a place for one another. When we focus on these tasks we open ourselves to learn from one another, to grow in relationship, and to see Christ in each person, community, and companion church.
I want to stress another portion of the Emmaus text in relationship to accompaniment: travel. Jesus journeyed with these travelers, walking alongside them and sharing with them in their home. As I pondered during the Good Friday services, it can be easy to see Christ in others whom we know and understand, but when we are separated from the reality of others who are different from us, it can be difficult for us to see Christ in them: not only because of fears and prejudices, but also because we do not know much about them and we may even forget their existence in the world, as it is not a part of our own reality.
In San Sebastian we ended the reflection upon the Emmaus text with the petition that the travelers extended to Jesus: Stay with us. Help us to open our eyes. Yet I close this letter with not only this petition, but also with an encouragement to �Go.� Do as Jesus did and travel. Whether by physically traveling, or perhaps more easily, being present emotionally, mentally, and spiritually with your companion churches by acquainting yourself with the joys and struggles they face in their respective countries. When you have listened it is then that your eyes will be opened to see Christ, and to mutually give and receive the gifts God has given each and every one of us.