Let Go

(Shared at the Stated Meeting of the Albany Presbytery at the United Church of Cohoes, June 11th, 2011)

I feel very honored to have been invited to your time of worship this morning - and especially to have been asked to share my thoughts on mission and how it has impacted my faith.

I’ve been working in the mission field for three years now. In 2008, I joined five other young adults from the Presbyterian Church for a year of volunteer service in central Peru. During that year I joined the ministry of Paz y Esperanza, Peace and Hope, an ecumenical organization which advocates for survivors of sexual abuse and domestic violence.

Since returning home, I’ve been working with a homeless shelter and recovery program for women and children at the City Mission of Schenectady.

To start I feel I should share my understanding of what it means to do mission work. Over the years and even centuries, mission work has taken on a variety of different meanings, with various purposes and intentions behind them.

When I refer to “mission” I envision a call to service and discipleship, which confronts brokenness in its many forms. To me, mission work is prayerful consideration of how G-d’s Kingdom can be furthered in today’s world.

I feel it is important to embrace a broad sense of what it means to do mission work because there are innumerable ways in which G-d chooses to further His message of love and reconciliation.

As we are reminded in the Book of Romans, 12:4, Just as our bodies have many parts and each part has a special function, so it is with Christ’s body.

And in acting as the body of Christ, G-d uses our own unique gifts and even our supposed weakness as tools for the building of His Kingdom.

While working in an orphanage or digging wells in Africa can indeed be mission work, so can serving as an ICU nurse at Albany Medical Center, or being the traffic control guard after a car accident.

And mission work is not always reserved for high-level crisis situations and desperate times of need. While G-d’s call on our lives can be especially evident during such intense times, the opportunity for mission work can come in the most unlikely of places and at the most unexpected times.

In fact, I believe mission service can be felt most profoundly through seemingly ordinary and insignificant daily acts of service.

I first learned this from my parent’s plumber, a cheerful gentleman who came to our house from time to time to fix a broken toilet or install a new sink. During one particularly taxing job, my mom noted to him how very thorough his work is, down to the very last detail.

In response, the gentleman expressed to my mom that he does his work as if he were doing it for the Lord. In each pipe he fused, each screw he tightened, he knew he was performing a vital service that assisted others in their daily lives. He was doing mission at its most practical and thus impactful level, and all to the Glory of G-d.

I find that mission work is not about what we do or where we serve, but the condition and leaning of our hearts while you do it. Mission work also depends on the extent to which we include G-d in our service and our willingness to be changed through G-d in the process.

In preparing to leave for Peru, I wondered what exactly my purpose would be and what God’s will was in me going. After some reflection, I accepted that my call to service would not necessarily be to build a school, or adopt an orphan, or to heal a young woman from the trauma of her past.

I did not attach myself to any sweeping forms of service that would come across as “real” mission. In fact, there was nothing particularly concrete about my intentions at all.

I knew that my year of service in Peru would have very little to do what my efforts. If anything, both me and my plans needed to get out of the way, in order for G-d to work through me.

And of all the words I could’ve hung unto, to inspire and motivate myself during the year, the two most important words were “Let Go.”

The process of letting go, has been the basis for my spiritual growth during the past three years -working in Peru and now at the City Mission of Schenectady.

First, I felt the tug to let go of my ego and the thoughts that tell me what I should be doing, what I should be gaining.

For the first few months in Peru, I could barely communicate in Spanish much less contribute anything of value. Being in a new environment with different social and cultural cues that I had yet to absorb, I felt completely dependent on others around me.

I was hardly in any condition to make a difference in other’s lives, when I could barely function myself.

This initial experience stripped me of my abilities, my familiar modes of action and in many ways my overall identity. It was a process of letting go of my carefully crafted sense of self in order to used by G-d in this new environment.

I think it took that early period of disorientation to reorient myself to the particular way that G-d chose to use me during that year.

Once I endured this initial adjustment, I had the opportunity to serve in a variety of ways. Some assignments were more functional, like taking photographs at community events or cutting out construction paper decorations for every birthday party and holiday.

On a few occasions, I even stepped into a giant foam-lined guinea pig costume in 90 degree heat, for public education programs for children on preventing sexual abuse.

And there were certain invitations to service that were particularly meaningful. This was the case when I was given the opportunity to develop an art and dance therapy program for a support group of survivors.

It was such a profound feeling to sense that my own passion for movement and creative expression would be able to serve women who had been stripped of all dignity.

Letting go has also been a part of my growth at the City Mission. After returning from Peru, I hoped that my work at the City Mission would reflect the exhilaration I felt doing art therapy in Peru - my passions meeting a critical need.

I felt that I had paid my dues and it was time to do ministry on my terms. While I joyfully embraced the various opportunities I had in Peru, I was anxious to have some “real” responsibility.

I wanted to make some decisions, to counsel women, to teach, to make a lasting impact on the lives of women in Schenectady. I thought I was prepared to take on more challenges and to really make a difference.

I think the desire to make a difference is often a driving factor in our desire to serve others. We want to make a positive change in someone else’s life or to at least provide an answer to another’s question. And there is no doubt that this in a noble and valid intention.

However, the danger in this being the sole cause for service is that we are only satisfied when we see visible, concrete change because of our actions. As I have learned, G-d doesn’t work that way.

I believe G-d is about gradual, long-term sustainable change. And for many of us who like to see our impact in a snap-shot image, we become disenchanted when we notice that G-d’s timeline is much more subtle and elongated.

At the City Mission, we have a rather obscure volunteer opportunity called “ministry of presence.” Rather than offer a concrete task or an obvious need to fill, we invite volunteers to just “be.”

For my church, Hamilton Union, this meant coming to the community meal, not to serve dinner or wash dishes, but to sit and partake in the meal.

In this case, ministry of presence meant opening oneself to conversation with a stranger, to pull up a chair and make that initial eye contact, a gesture that can speak more loudly than Scripture and may feel more nourishing that a warm meal.

In doing mission work, we are asked to let go of our notions of productivity and our desire for concrete outcomes. We are also challenged to release certain values and assumptions which prevent us from truly serving others – to recognized the ways in which we judge the acts and behavior of those we serve.

Working with women in recovery at the City Mission, I find at times, every human fiber in my being wants to judge her, to make decisions for her, to tell her how to live her life, how to change.

In working with women in crisis, I have had to rely on G-d so that my perspective does not intervene with G-d’s ministry. If I hang onto the frustration and the disappointment after a woman leaves the center, I am unable to open my heart to the next person who enters our doors.

I have relied on G-d to give me a new lens of compassion, day after day, new eyes, new words, a refreshed mind and an uncluttered heart, when my preference would be to stop listening, to not care, to turn away.

Because, the truth is, without G-d’s grace and overwhelming power of restoration, I would not be able endure it this line of ministry.

The past three years have been a journey of letting go, and letting G-d. Of saying no to my own agenda, my “preferred” approach, my “default” method and saying, “G-d, use me to build up your kingdom. And help me to get out of the way.”

Working in mission often involves the painstaking process of losing yourself and becoming G-d’s instrument. But at the same time working in mission recaptures what makes you unique and how your individual traits and gifts can build up that Kingdom.

Mission is knowing yourself deeply yet at the same time being willing to bend and change in however G-d calls.

And as you all venture out today to partake in various forms of mission service, I encourage you to not only see what others may gain from your service or what you yourself will gain from stepping out in faith, but more profoundly, what are you willing to let go of during your service today?

Is your heart prepared to bend and incline toward G-d’s will, even if you are unable to see a direct impact? Are you willing to engage in ministry even if the outcome is uncertain?

If so, I believe you are availing yourself more fully to G-d’s transforming grace. And the extent to which you allow yourself to be changed in the process, so will you change other people and the communities we live in.