On Mission

I feel a lot of guilt about my failure to get out and serve in the community more. Social missions are very important to me--namely, issues of poverty, hunger, homelessness, people's lack of access to affordable health care, etc. I try to put my money where my mouth is in supporting ministries focused on those causes, and politically, I vote and advocate in ways that I feel benefit those Jesus called the "least of these." But I feel negligent in not putting more of my time and physical energy toward those causes.

The lure of my family and home are so strong (and my free time so limited) that I have trouble committing to any regular volunteer schedule. Just as I try to give to those who beg from me on the street, I try to say "yes" when invited to serve somewhere for just one period of time, without signing away my precious two evening hours of "Kate-time" on any long term basis. (I have come to understand in recent years why the Apostle Paul and the Catholic Church even today advocate singlehood for the most devoted servants of God!) But I know I am called to do more. I just don't know what.

Several months ago, I begged God to lay a mission opportunity in my lap, and promised to say "yes." Soonafter that, I heard about an opportunity to serve at a Costa Rican orphanage for a week, and I immediately responded to express my interest. As the trip planning progressed, however, things just didn't feel right and I backed out. (That is not to imply there is anything untoward about the organizers of that trip; I just wasn't feeling comfortable about it.) Though my concerns felt reasonable, after my prayerful promise, I felt like I was explicitly refusing God's call and proving myself a fraud.

A few weeks later, my boss (who would soon be leaving for another position) called me into his office and asked me to take over a project he'd been shepherding--the Find Your Way Home prison tour. I wrote about it here, when I designed a benefit concert poster for the tour. The tour visits women's prisons around the country, delivering a message of hope from author and Episcopal priest Becca Stevens and graduates of the Magdalene program, which helps former prostitutes and addicts recover and live a healthy and whole life. (Becca Stevens is an Abingdon author, and we are sponsoring the tour along with the Cal Turner Family Foundation, so that's why my boss was so actively involved in this.) Their message shares with incarcerated women two principles: "love is the most powerful source for social change, and women can begin to create their own communities of healing wherever they are." (Those are Rev. Stevens' words.) I had been interested in and envious of the opportunity my boss had to travel with this group and be a part of this amazing ministry since the tour began in January. And now, for the final two stops of the tour, I get to be part of it as well.

The first of those two is this coming weekend--when I would have been on that mission trip to Costa Rica.

We'll be in Houston, where Rev. Stevens will speak at St. John's Downtown Church (a United Methodist congregation led by Rudy Rasmus) and then she and the Magdelene women will speak at a nearby women's prison the next day. I'm told it will be an amazing experience and I'm excited to be a part of it.

In Sunday school a couple weeks ago, we were talking about the death penalty, and someone said "You know, we can talk about these issues theoretically all we want, but Jesus said we should be out visiting those in prison." And I thought "wow--I actually get to do that." It's harder these days than it was in the days of Jesus or even John Wesley to go into a jail and visit with prisoners. There is a lot of security clearance, etc. But I have the opportunity to go into prisons and bring comfort and hope to troubled women. True, my role is more organizational--I won't be speaking myself--but I still feel honored to be a part of it.

This week, I got another e-mail about an international mission opportunity--a trip to Mexico to work on sustainable agriculture and combat hunger and poverty in rural Mexico. "Could I, should I, sign up for that?" I thought, always feeling like I need to do more and put my principles into practice. (And wow, that sounds like an amazing ministry!) I looked at my schedule, though, and wouldn't you know...?

It is the same week as the other prison tour visit I get to be a part of--to Los Angeles in September.

I still feel called to be more hands-on in serving the poor, and hope I can find the personal motivation to sacrifice some of that precious family-time. But this opportunity for prison ministry and the coincidence of the dates of those mission trips I heard about helps me to relax a bit and trust more that God will guide me to the places I should be serving.

What causes and ministries do you feel most called to?
How do you find (or make) time to serve others amidst the other responsibilites of daily life?

I Will Remember You

Though I typically disparage "proof texting," the truth is that we all have verses of scripture that we emphasize more than others and make more central to our value systems. For me, one of these verses that I take very seriously is Jesus' command in the Sermon on the Mount/Plain to "give to all who ask of you." (Matthew 5:42/Luke 6:30).


I don't apply this so literally as to donate to every cause that calls me during dinnertime, but I do always try to give what I can to homeless persons on the streets of Nashville. There was one man I remember seeing many times. His name was John, and he had a tattoo of blue teardrops falling from one eye. He was pretty old--though probably not as old as he looked, given the hardships of life on the street. I would always give him some money, and (in some ways more importantly) some eye contact and and a handshake, trying to offer some semblance of the dignity and humanity the homeless are often denied. John had a diseased thumb and forefinger on one of his hands. Those digits were swollen to a disgusting proportion, and the last time I saw him, he told me he would be getting them amputated soon. I never saw John again after he was to have the surgery on his hand.


One day, I was stopped at an intersection where homeless men often stand with cardboard signs, asking for money and help. There was an old man there, and as I rolled toward the red light, I thought it might be John. When the car came to a stop right near the man, I saw that it was not him. Even if I didn't remember John's face perfectly, I noticed the man did not have John's signature teadrop tattoo. I rolled down the window, pressed a bill into his hand, and held his hand for a moment.

He looked me straight in the eye and said, "I will remember you."

I was struck, and as the light turned green and I drove away, words from Scripture rang in my head.

"...Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me." (Matthew 25:40)

"Then [the first criminal] said, 'Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.'
Jesus answered him, 'I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.'" (Luke 23:42-43)

I saw God that day, in the eyes of a homeless man begging for change. And I will always remember him too.

Patriotism and the Church

I always have a lot of mixed emotions around the Fourth of July, because a) it's my birthday, b) I love analyzing American culture, and this is the most American of days, but c) in America, we too often have trouble separating our love of country and our love of God.

I'd be tempted to write a good post fleshing out point c, but I doubt I could do it any better than Rachel Held Evans, whose book on losing and finding her faith in "Monkeytown" (Dayton, TN, home of the Scopes Monkey Trial) is being published by Zondervan. So if you are at all interested in church/state issues, patriotism and Christianity, or living as a Christ-follower in America, check out her post on "4th of July Weekend: A Case for Compartmentalization."

Things to Do During Earth Hour

Tonight, people around the world will be observing Earth Hour from 8:30 to 9:30pm (in whatever time zone you are in). The idea is that turning off your lights and other appliances for that hour will be a symbolic gesture to raise awareness of energy consumption and environmental crises in general. Not just for individual homes, many cities are participating by turning off lights on landmarks and other public buildings. The Broadway honky-tonks in Nashville will be turning off their neon signs, I just heard on the news.

I recycle, and try to be consciencious about turning off lights when I leave a room, but I admit I'm not as aware or as active as I probably should be. Earth Hour is one little thing we can do to reflect on our energy consumption and at the same time reflect on the simple pleasures of life by turning off our TV, computers, phones, etc. Given that the Earth Hour website suggests people blog and twitter about their experiences during the hour, I assume total abstinence from gadgets is not part of the "rules" per se, but I think it would certainly enhance the experience.

So, if you're thinking of participating, but wondering "what on earth would I do for an hour without lights, electricity, or even batteries?" here are a few ideas...

• play a board game or write a letter by candlelight
• make s'mores in your fireplace
• go outside and look at the stars
• pray
• sit in the dark and TALK
• go to bed early
• get in bed early and... you know
• draw pictures in the dark and laugh at yourselves when the lights are back on
• tell funny stories about what you think is happening on your favorite TV shows ("Tonight, on Slutty Doctors..." Okay, that would be Thursday night, but it's still a fun game.)

So, what will YOU do?

Christians and War

I took the Belief-O-Matic quiz on Beliefnet.com last week. It had been several years since I last took it, and I was curious to see if my "true religion" had changed recently. Sure enough, it still had me as 100% Orthodox Quaker (followed by moderate-to-liberal Protestant and moderate-to-conservative Protestant in the mid-90% range). The quiz's perception of my ideal tradition is mainly based, it seems, on my answers to the last two questions of the quiz, which deal with abortion and war. I rank both matters "high" in importance, and respond to both questions in the strictest pro-life manner possible, rejecting the taking of human life in any circumstance, be it before birth or in response to international conflict. It's hard to find Protestants who agree with me on both those issues, but I (like orthodox Quakers and many Catholics) feel that is the view Jesus would espouse.

In all my pre-baby reoganizing and decluttering, I found a clipping with a quote I love from Will Willimon, who is currently bishop of the North Alabama conference of the UMC. The quote is from a Palm Sunday sermon he delivered as dean of Duke University Chapel sometime between 2001 and 2005, I would guess. I could offer my own commentary, but it would probably be rambling and ineloquent. So, I'll let Will's statement speak for itself. Suffice it to say, I think he's dead on.

"During the last presidential election, there was debate about Senator Lieberman. 'He's a devout Jew,' some said. 'He keeps kosher. If we have a national crisis and need to go to war on a Saturday, could we count on Lieberman?' Nobody said, 'George Bush is a Methodist, Al Gore is a Baptist, don't these Christians have some funny ideas about violence? Can we count on them to kick butt when we need it?'

"Nobody asked because, well, when it comes to such issues, you can't tell the worshipers of Caesar from the devotees of Jesus."