In those eleven days I've been home, a lot has happened in this country. In just eleven days we've heard confusing but troubling threats of nuclear warfare and been smacked in the face with the acknowledgement that in the United States in 2017, racism and white supremacy are alive and well, thriving even. There's probably more that I'm not remembering, and I'm just talking about eleven short days, not even two weeks. I've wanted to do something, but it feels like I'm not in a position to do anything helpful.
Multiple times I've begun composing passionate Facebook statuses in an effort to make my voice heard, only to change my mind and delete them. The truth is, a Facebook status would do very little to initiate actual change. No matter how well worded my Facebook status is, it will soon be lost in the void of countless other statuses. This blog post might gain some traction for a few days, but it will inevitably be lost in the endless void of the internet. So what can I do?
As I was thinking about this dilemma, my mind drifted to the dear woman who was our Chaplin at training. Kathryn Mitchem is a former missionary and deaconess, and as far as I'm concerned, a living saint. She told us at the beginning of our training that she would be sitting in on most of our sessions. Not to observe or test us, but to pray for us. Day after day, as we endured long sessions tackling tough issues that sometimes became controversial, she sat quietly in the back and did what she promised us she was there to do. She was a quiet yet powerful presence during our training, and she was well loved.
I know that I am not alone in my adoration of this woman. Every night at dinner I witnessed people seeking her out and asking her to sit with them. Whenever I saw her in the hallway, she was surrounded by a small crowd. You basically had to stand in line to have a conversation with her. There is just something about this quiet, peaceful woman that draws people in.
The most profound evidence of Kathryn's impact came during what was called our send-off ritual the night before commissioning. We sat in a circle and passed around a candle, and as each person held the candle for one minute, we were supposed to say positive and affirming things about them. When the candle was handed to Kathryn, the quiet was broken. All forty-five Global Mission Fellows, without previously planning this, stood and applauded our prayer warrior. We got so caught up in our applause that we used up thirty seconds of her minute just standing and clapping.
So why does Kathryn come to my mind as I try to figure out what I, as just one person, can do in the face of all this evil? Maybe because I know that she has seen decades of evil things, before I was even born. She has seen over and over again how dark the world can be, and she still chooses to shine her light. She gives me hope.
Advocacy is important and imperative. There's a quote that's been floating around Facebook, and though it's source has been questioned, I think it's a good thought. "Silence in the face of evil is itself evil."In Isaiah Chapter 58, a passage that we studied during one of our training sessions,are these words “Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? Is it not to share your food with the hungry, and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—when you see the naked, to clothe them, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood? Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard. (Verses 6-8)
As advocates march with their message of justice, and eager new missionaries embark on our missions, Kathryn continues to pray for us. Knowing this, I feel comforted, and I feel empowered. She and others like her are essential to our mission.I do not know what the future holds for me, or this country, or the world. Even after three weeks of missionary training, I often don't know what I can do to create justice in an enormously unjust world. But I do have hope, because I have the examples of people like Kathryn who have been doing the work of justice for decades. If they have not lost hope, then I will not lose hope. I will keep moving forward even when I am not quite sure of the best way to go. I will follow in the footsteps of those who have been where I am right now, and I will continue the work that they started. It is what I am called to do.
|"Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has" (Photo by Lily Sloan)|