During the weekend of July 11th and 12th, I was invited to give the reflection after the gospel at my home parish - St. Stephen Catholic Community - at all three weekend masses. Some of you had asked for a copy of my reflection, so here it is (the audio is available at http://www.st-stephen.com/homilies.html under the weekend of July 12th.) The people of St. Stephen have been unbelievably generous and kind with their support - what a blessing to be part of a community which has so freely reached out its arms to support one of its own. Thank you.
Partners in the Mission: Mark 6:7-13
Erin Ramsey
July 11th-12th, 2009
May and June are busy months for us. The end of school brings the joy of summer, complete with vacations and summer camps, Acts of Faith rehearsals and endless family barbeques. It also brings, as those of you who are recent graduates of any age know well – commencements.
When I was younger, I always assumed that this fancy word “commence” meant “to finish.” After all, graduation meant we were finishing school – we were celebrating something completed. I don’t remember when I finally figured it out, but eventually someone brought it to my attention that a commencement wasn’t an ending or a termination. Rather, this word “commence” actually means “to begin” – or, according to the Princeton online dictionary – to “take the first step or steps in carrying out an action.”
The idea of commencement is fresh in my mind. My own commencement exercises at Notre Dame took place earlier this summer, and while there was certainly plenty of excitement about the ceremonies themselves, I have to say that one of my favorite parts of the entire weekend occurred outside the realm of anything formal or organized. Late at night on our very last night on campus, many of my classmates and I gathered under Mary’s watchful eyes on the steps of the golden dome to celebrate our four wonderful years and bid each other farewell as we headed forth into the world. And as I hugged my friends goodbye through teary eyes, I couldn’t help but think, true to the meaning of the word “commence,” that we were not only completing something, but beginning something. That each one of them – like the apostles in today’s gospel reading – was being sent. Whether they headed for medical school or to a full-time job in a big city, volunteer service or back home to live with Mom and Dad for a while, it was so clear to me that each one of them was truly being commissioned to go forth and share what they had learned and how they had grown with a world deeply in need.
It is one of Notre Dame’s finest traditions that about ten percent of each graduating class commits themselves to a year or more of volunteer service following graduation. These seniors committing to serve the poor, marginalized and oppressed throughout the world are honored and sent forth in a beautiful commissioning ceremony on Saturday of graduation weekend. Each senior receives a small journal, walks across the stage, and shares where she or he will be serving for the next year.
“Hi, I’m Susan Bigelow, and I’ll be teaching middle school social studies and language arts through the Alliance for Catholic Education in Brownsville, Texas.”
“My name is Chris Labadie, and I’ll be working with liturgy and music in Clonard parish in Co. Wexford, Ireland.”
“Hi, I’m Katie Dunn, and I’ll be working with victims of human trafficking in India through International Justice Mission.”
“Hello, I’m Mike Clemente, and I’ll be living in a L’Arche community with people with developmental disabilities in Iowa.”
And the litany goes on and on. For almost a half hour, a stream of grinning graduates – over two hundred in total – walked across that stage and professed their commitment to serve those in need everywhere from South Bend to South Korea. It was deeply moving and beautiful and true.
Fr. John and Fr. George asked me to speak to you today because I am among those graduates who walked across that stage this past May. This fall, I will begin a twenty-seven month commitment to the Farm of the Child – a small, Catholic orphanage on the shores of Northern Honduras. I spent two months living and serving, laughing and crying and learning and loving at the Farm in the summer of 2007, and my experiences during those two months so deeply moved me that I’ll be returning this fall to begin a long-term commitment to the Farm and its kids. The Farm of the Child provides family-style homes to about fifty children who have been left orphaned, abused, or abandoned by the poverty and corruption so wide-spread in Honduras. In addition, the children are provided with good healthcare, the opportunity for spiritual development, and a quality Catholic education. My fellow volunteers and I will live in community in a small, simple house on the same piece of property as our kids. We’ll offer our gifts to the needs of the project as we serve as teachers, social workers, nurses, community organizers, and in a variety of other positions. Most of all, we will strive to love each other and our kids well, showing them that they are beautiful, valued, and a source of immeasurable joy in the eyes of God. I have no doubt that our work will be incredibly challenging, and we will stumble and fall more often than we would like… but I also know that, like the Twelve in today’s gospel reading, we are truly being sent, and that God will not forsake us in our work.
But lest you think that the only true missionaries are those who walked across that stage that Saturday in May… Let me tell you about Brennan, who is entering Harvard Medical School this fall with an interest in public health and a desire to find a cure for lymphatic filarisis, a disease which affects over 25% of the people of Haiti. Or Michael, who pledges to cling to ethical business practices as he begins his job as a financial consultant in New York City. Or Katie, who, just a few weeks ago, knelt at this very altar and professed her love for her new husband, John, as they begin their married life together. They, too, are missionaries. They, too, are being sent – to be God’s hands and feet and love and joy in this broken, beautiful world.
And make no mistake about it – you, too, are being sent. If you walked across that stage this past May, what would you say?
“Hi, I’m Jack, and I try my best to be a good father to my four girls.”
“My name is Sue, and I get up in front of a classroom of second graders each Sunday and try to teach them a bit about God’s love.”
“Hi, I’m Kevin, and every once in a while I try to sit with the girl who everybody teases at school .”
As Pope John Paul II exhorts in his apostolic letter on mission, each Christian is called to have a missionary heart – to share, in his or her own way, the good news of the gospel to those in need. Perhaps this brings you to Honduras, or perhaps it brings you to your desk at work. We are one body with many parts, united in mission – to bring a bit of the Kingdom of God here to earth.
My favorite part of today’s gospel reading comes directly from the first sentence. “Jesus summoned the Twelve and began to send them out two by two…” Two by two. Together – as partners in the mission – we work for the coming of the Kingdom, for the freedom of the oppressed, to make love visible in our own respective corners of this deluded, tormented, beautiful world we’ve been given. And what a relief this is! It’s not my job or your job to unravel the whole knotted mess of the world; it’s just my job to work on my small sliver. My friends who have left Notre Dame to do their sacred work in Brownsville, Ireland, Boston, India, New York and Iowa… they complete my ministry where I cannot, just as I will do for them in Honduras. And so do all of you. What you do, I cannot. Two by two – together – we complete each other’s Work.
I recall a letter I received years ago from a friend serving in Ecuador which echoes these sentiments. She writes,
… how many more Joyful Workers are out there, helping us in our efforts? How many more loving, holy people will I meet as I grow older? They are out there, loving where and how I cannot. Where and how you cannot. Have faith in them, and the world will never get the best of you. Yes, “the poor will always be with you,” but so will an endless team of believers.
Our world needs you. Our world needs doctors and lawyers, financial consultants and poets, priests and nuns and mothers and fathers, who will serve with missionary hearts - with courage, love and faithfulness. Whatever your response to Jesus’ call to make love visible, may you have the grace answer to answer boldly and well…. For we truly are one Body in Christ, and we all benefit when one member grows in faith and love and gratitude.
There is a beautiful song called “Partners in the Mission” by Peter Hesed that I love. The last two verses go like this:
We are partners in the work of Bringing faith and hope to birth;
Seeking wholeness for the broken, We, the hands of Christ on earth.
Like the saints who came before us, Let our deeds and witness be
Living promise of the Kingdom, and a sign of unity.
While on earth this is our calling; learn to bear the beams of love.
We are sent to live for others, sent on mission from above;
Though we tremble at love’s burden, It is easy, it is light;
As we seek eternal splendor, May our souls with love burn bright.
