Andrea & Luke

Mexico Musings, Spring 2010 by Luke

2010-04-06T09:00:00.006-05:00

Easter Greetings from Mexico! I hope this finds each of you well during this season of new beginnings. Spring in the Midwest is my favorite time of year: the snow melts and the ground and trees turn green, the short cold days give way to warmer and longer days, and new life appears every single day until the corn is ready for harvest in late July.

Here in Mexico, we too are in the midst of the country’s most celebrated season of Lent and Easter. Schools are on break for two weeks, the pace of Mexico City slows as people migrate to families and vacation spots anywhere outside of the metropolis, and Cuernavaca’s population increases during this time.

The weather here makes me long for the spring season in the North. Cuernavaca at the beginning of the hot and dry season, where the land goes from a lush green to a crusty brown, and people head for the relief of the shade.

Life in Mexico for Andrea and me continues to fly by. 2010 has been quite busy thus far. In January, the Immersion Program hosted two groups from the U.S., which pretty much took care of the month for me. In February, we took the Young Adults in Global Mission volunteers to the U.S.-Mexico border for an immersion experience. It was an opportunity for the volunteers to make some connections between the reality in which they have lived for six months and the realities on the border. It was a full five days that left everyone exhausted and full, both mentally and emotionally.

After the border trip ended with the volunteers, Andrea and I had the great opportunity to visit several sponsoring congregations in Tucson and Phoenix. During our Lenten visits, we met people with a variety of backgrounds. Our conversations took place over what amounted to buckets of soup, mounds of salad, and jugs of lemonade during the two weeks. We were welcomed into worship, and shared snippets of our ministry and experiences in Mexico. For me, the experience of visiting so many congregations was life-giving, in that we were able to finally put the faces to the names of those communities of faith who have committed to supporting our ministry in Mexico.

Of the many questions we heard over the course of our visits, one of the most popular was, “When are you due, Andrea!?” To say the least, Andrea’s pregnancy has gone well. We’ve recently begun attending weekly birthing classes with our midwife, which, if there was any lingering denial of parenthood on my part, has truly been eye opening, informative, and a settling dose of reality. Besides all that we’ve learned thus far, I’ve really appreciated the opportunity to hear other soon-to-be parents ask questions and express the same concerns that Andrea and I share. So, June 17 – the due date – will come soon, and we continue to prepare in blessed anticipation.

There is also big news for me personally in my mission service. I’ve decided to leave the ELCA Immersion Program in Mexico City to serve as Associate Pastor at La Iglesia Luterana del Buen Pastor – The Good Shepherd Lutheran Church – in Mexico City. This move comes at a time when the Immersion Program has seen a decline in delegations coming to Mexico, and El Buen Pastor has expressed the desire to have an English-speaking pastor serve their community of faith.

While I will miss working with visiting delegations, I’m enthusiastic about this opportunity to serve as this congregation’s pastor. This transition only affects my day-to-day ministry, and does not affect how long we plan on staying in Mexico. We plan on staying at least through 2012, if not longer. So, this is a big transition for me, through which I continue to work. Your prayers and thoughts for me, the Immersion Program, and El Buen Pastor are greatly appreciated, particularly during the next several months.

As my ministry with the congregation becomes more defined, I will surely let you know more details. At this point I know that it will include preaching, teaching, and other responsibilities typical to congregational ministry. I also know that one of my main foci will be to reach out to and to serve the ex-pat population of the community. The congregation is small, and has historically been bi-lingual and multi-cultural, serving not only the Lutheran population of Mexico City, but also the general protestant population. To get a better idea of the community in which I will be serving, please visit their website at iglesialuterana.org.mx. I look forward to sharing with you more about El Buen Pastor and their ministry to the city of Mexico as I settle into my place there.

In the mean time, the calendar is quite full! Andrea and I will be traveling to the Midwest (just in time for some spring!) for a few weeks in April. Andrea and I will visit Holy Shepherd Lutheran Church in Indiana and Augustana Lutheran Church in Minnesota, where Andrea plans to preach and we will share about our ministries in Mexico. If you’re in the area, we’d love to see you there! We will also be at the annual Discernment-Interview-Placement event for 2010-2011 Young Adults in Global Mission candidates during the second full week of April. Please keep these young people, the country coordinators, and the ELCA Global Mission staff members in your prayers during this week!

We will also be in Eau Claire, WI, April 23-24, presenting at an ELCA Glocal Mission Event designed to bring people together from global and local contexts in order to teach and learn from one another about how we can better serve God’s people around the world – including in our own neighborhoods. So yes, the first few months of 2010 have been full indeed! I have a feeling that come mid-June, life will take on yet another level of full-ness, and I look forward to sharing this with you. As always, thank you for all of your support for Andrea and myself.

In God’s Peace,

Luke

What Keeps Me Up at Night by Luke

2010-04-06T08:37:00.005-05:00

Late February 2010

It's 1:30am and it's been exactly 5 months of so since writing...Tonight I sit up thinking about the baby and I've convinced myself it's a boy. It don't know why - we've asked the doctor not to know - it's just a hunch. So, the thinking began...

Thoughts wandering around my restless mind and body are about the question of circumcision. I´ve convinced myself that this is the entire process: pain, screaming, passing out, crying, plop right into the arms of the midwife. Then labor starts! Andrea pushes and sweats a lot. Then the much anticipated words, "It's a boy!" Anyone and everyone in the room is astounded at the miracle of life (or simply too exhausted to really give a damn), and then...then...circumcision?

I think to myself laying in bed the phrase that breaks the silence of the awstruck people looking at the most beautiful baby in the world, "Welcome to the world big boy! Time to get circumcised!" Certainly there's some break for the boy, no? Or does it get done right then and there? That's not a decsion to give a 12 or 13 year old is it? My thinking is if you're going to do it, do it when he won't remember!

Now I'm sleepless just wondering how the whole thing goes down.

My mind wanders skipping from topic to topic as fast and steady as we breathe.

Andrea breathes in...What color eyes?

I breathe out...What color hair?

Breathe in...Dear God, please 10 fingers and 10 toes, you know, the ones we've been feeling kick now for a few weeks.

Breathe in...I imagine changing diapers one day and the circumcised boy pisses all over me.

Breathe out...I get mad, but then see his face and my anger melts away leaving a smile.

Breathe in...One small clean-up along the way.

Then I think about earthquakes - Haiti and Chili. For goodness sake, what the heck happens if right before, or in the middle, of the circumcision?! The birth?!

My mind imagines Andrea being in labor, covered in the richest sweat of her life as she´s about to give birth and then POW! The Big One hits Mexico, leaving us outside when the boy plops out. Jesus!

Bricks are falling, flash lights in hand, buckets of water, stacks of towels, in-laws, a midwife, all chaos surrounds us and Lord willing a little baby joins us for the craziness. S¿$%!

It's cold outside here in Tucson. My handwriting sucks today. So really, besides the earthquake and 20 beautiful digits, what do we do about circumcision? What if there's a slip of the knife? How do you explain that one? With, "Sorry son, there was an earthquake." That will be of little comfort to one in junior high gym class...but really, what a story!

What a story indeed - even if there's not earthquake and all goes fine in record time (four hours). A beautiful baby. Crazy.

I imagine the love that I know will surround that little boy in the first few moments of life will be pure and rich. My hope is that that love can be spread out just a bit through the world which is clearly so thirsty for love.

It will be a good day, 20 digits or none. Grey hair or blue. Crying or quiet. Both sets of parents or none. Boy or Girl. A day much anticipated since the first positive prego test and the first desernable kick.

Oh man, what if Andrea went into labor on the plane a day from now!? Well, enough questions for now. I'll have to save that one for another one of these nights. The End.

FYI: Andrea and I still do not know if it´s a boy or a girl. We´ve talked since about circumcision...something neither of us really considered until this sleepless night.

Statement of Faith by Luke

2010-02-22T18:26:00.005-06:00

July 2009

The following statment can be read in conjunction with my most recent posting, "Musings from Mexico" posted February 2010. Happy Reading!!

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I believe in the one Triune God - Creator, Christ, and Holy Spirit
A living God and God of all that lives.

I believe in The God of Life,
who brought forth a world of abundance for all people of all times and places,
who turns toward the path of justice and peace,
who turns away from the fears of scarcity and death,
who upholds those who seek the path of harmony between the Creator and the created.

I believe that The God of Life stands with, and cries out for, those who face injustice and oppression:
those who are called to serve the body of Christ but have yet to be welcomed,
those who are forced to leave their homes and communities in order to provide for their

families and loved ones,
those who suffer hatred and humiliation because of their

gender, race, age, nationality, faith tradition, sexuality, or disability,
those who face the dangerous risks of defending basic human rights.

I believe in the God of Life, the Creator.
God created humanity in God’s own image. God continues to create and gives us life today.

The Creator entrusted us to care for and to sustain the abundant Creation.

Rather than follow the Creator’s instructions, to care for the earth and to eat from the

garden, we sought to know the very mystery of life itself. We came to know, through our own

sin, that we are indeed the created and not the Creator.

I believe in the God of Life, incarnate in Jesus.
Because we are fallen, the God of Life became flesh: fully human, fully divine. God graciously

entered into a form we know: human, a child born of wanderers, a sibling, a person of deep

faith, and an outcast; one abused, oppressed, mocked, and ultimately killed. His life was also

divine: healing the sick, welcoming the deserted, forgiving sins, bringing life to the dead, and

crossing borders with determination and grace.

Jesus’ life leads us in a new way toward peace, justice, equality, and abundance. Jesus’

crucifixion was a demonstration of our sinfulness: a violent political act, rooted in fear and the

myth of scarcity. In Christ’s resurrection, once again God affirms life. Only through God’s

abundant grace are we claimed by God and given new life to bear witness to God’s child,

Jesus our Savior.

I believe in the God of Life, present with us through the Holy Spirit.
The Spirit enlivens the created in all times and all places. The Spirit inspired the authors of
our Scriptures to record their experiences of the God of Life. Just as the Spirit inspired these
authors, so she today inspires us to meet the God of Life through our own experiences, and
through these same Scriptures.

The Spirit draws us together as the Church. Through God’s graceful Spirit, we hear the Word
incarnate and respond together in faith. As the Body of Christ, through God’s grace, we follow
Jesus’ example to advocate for the voiceless and be a hopeful presence on earth. The Spirit
gives us the courage and faith to recognize that we tend toward the same fears that led to
Jesus’ crucifixion. In our tendency, even as the body of Christ, we must recognize that their
are voiceless members present in our congregations who seek to faithfully serve Christ’s
body. As a church we must seek to listen to all voices, relying on the Spirit’s movement
toward justice, reconciliation, and healing. As a church, we are guided by the Scriptures and
moved by the Spirit to go out humbly into the world,
proclaiming the presence of the God of Life.

I believe in the God of Life present in our Sacraments: Baptism and the Eucharist.
In celebrating these Sacraments, we proclaim the God of Life present today. Through
Baptism we recognize God’s gracious claim on our lives and are welcomed into the living Body
of Christ. At the common Table – open to all of God’s children, claimed by Christ – we are
gathered together through the Holy Spirit. We come together in response to God’s love,
remembering our brokenness, and celebrating new life in Christ. In celebrating our baptism
and in breaking bread together, we celebrate God’s mysterious gift of new life through Jesus.

I believe in the God of Life, who has called us into new life through Jesus. I believe that we are
called, as the Body of Christ, to stand with the God of Life, advocating for love and justice in
the face of injustice and oppression. I believe that the suffering and injustices of this world will
be reconciled in the Kingdom of Heaven. We, as church, even while we are assured of new life
after death, are called by God to be co-creators of the Kingdom of Heaven on earth. I believe
that we are called to proclaim a world of beauty and abundance,
which the God of Life created and called good.

Mexico Musings by Luke

2010-02-22T18:20:00.002-06:00

February 2010
Ordinary Time

Greetings from Cuernavaca, where we’ve seen our share of rain the past few weeks! I hope this finds each of you well in your own place. It’s been a busy few months since I last wrote…The biggest news from our home is that Andrea’s pregnancy continues to go well and is half-way through (She says it with a bigger and bigger smile every time asked!). At our second ultrasound we learned that she and the baby are healthy: we saw its feet and ten toes, its hands and ten fingers, its spine, head, stomach, and butt! So, while we’ve decided not to learn the sex of the baby until after the birth, we do know it’s healthy!! Fatherhood approaches faster and faster everyday!
As for my ministry, there have been two delegations so far this new year. The first delegation of 12 ELCA seminarians, two professors, and one pastor comprised the Seminary January Term Program. The second was a group of 17 faithful from the Chicago Religious Leadership Network. One of the 17 participants was my seminary mentor, who also happens to be my mother’s cousin. It was good to have family here in Mexico to see my life and ministry as it has unfolded the first 1+ year. I have a break now until April, when we expect our next delegation.
In the mean time, Andrea and I are busy getting ready for our annual trip to the U.S.-Mexico Border later this month, with her five Young Adults in Global Mission volunteers, who are serving through the ELCA in and around Cuernavaca. We’ll spend a week with the volunteers in Agua Prieta, Douglas, and Tucson as an immersion experience to learn first hand what realities lie ahead for many Mexicans in the borderlands when they make the difficult decision to head north. After the week with the volunteers, Andrea and I plan on spending two weeks in Arizona visiting friends, family, and several of our sponsoring congregations.
So, that’s our schedule and list of activities…the things I do, the big events in my life here in Mexico. But I’ve been thinking, reflecting, considering…

God of Life…God of Abundance…God of Enough.

As many of you know, the statement of faith I presented during my ordination process last year was framed by the proclamation of the God of Life, and included references to our God of Abundance. I am struck at how these particular images of God have remained in the forefront of my mind, and how I’ve been ruminating on them in the depths of my heart.
For me, this sort of theological pondering generally gets lost in the shuffle of my everyday life, replaced by figuring out what’s for dinner, paying bills, cleaning house, and working. In this case, however, that has not happened. In fact, these Scriptural images of God enter my daily life continually – be it through liturgy, relationships, in community, or conversations.
What I’ve been reflecting upon is the concept of the God of Life and God of Abundance in the context of my ministry with immersion programs here in Mexico City. Time after time I hear people from the U.S. or Canada make references to a God of Abundance or a God of Life, be it in prepared liturgies for worship or during our reflection times as groups. The rub for many people – myself included – comes when we joyfully proclaim a God of Abundance, yet are surrounded by abject poverty. How can this be when, as a community of faith, we proclaim a God who so loved the world that She sent her child so that we might have life, and have it abundantly?
During immersion programs I have found that many people inevitably come to the point where they find themselves in this very rub, asking these sorts of questions.
The questions often arise for group members after meeting their neighbors just to the south in a new way for the first time: through an academic discussion of the realities of Mexico (historic, political, economic, etc.); witnessing how roughly 70% of Mexicans earn a living working on the streets, selling everything from tacos and shoe shines to placemats and individual cigarettes; or visiting people in their homes, where the average household lives six to a room.
“How can this be…Why do we have so much and others have so little?” This is a question that people ask over and over anew during these immersion programs. This is the fundamental question that racks the brains and hearts of many… myself included.
As I mentioned, the images of our God of Life and God of Abundance have remained with me for several months now. I’ve been hearing this question – How can this be? – through the filter of our God who proclaims life and created a world of abundance.
Too often we understand this abundance to simply refer to wealth, stuff, or people’s well-being. Too often this abundance teeters on what some call the prosperity gospel, where faithfulness to church and God supposedly lead to economic well-being. Instead, consider that God’s Creation is abundant! Creation does provide everything that every living creature – including humanity – needs in order to live. Too often we forget that the inequalities we see are due to our own treatment of our neighbors and of Creation itself.
Often times the next question, right after, “How can this be?” is, “How can I share all that I have with others who have so little?”
How can I share? is a natural question when we meet, face-to-face, those who wonder where their next meal might come from, whose houses are smaller than our garages, whose wardrobe is considered extravagant when it includes socks.. It’s a natural question when we begin to examine our own lives. We often we consider abundance to be that our grocery carts are full, our 2 car-garages house stuff rather than cars, each room in our house has a television, our cupboards are so full that the groceries fill counter space, and our closets are stuffed with clothes which still have tags on them.
While the question of sharing is an important one, I would like to propose an alternative question: How much is enough? How much house is enough, how much food is enough, how much car is enough, how much wardrobe is enough, how much stuff is enough, how much free time is enough? How much is enough?
What about considering this question theologically? What if, along with our proclamations of the God of Abundance, God of Life, we seek to encounter the God of Enough in Scripture…
How much is enough? For many of us in the U.S., this might be a helpful question for those who live in a world of abundance.
What does it mean to have enough? Where does one draw the line and say, “That’s enough! I have enough! I’m done!” It would be as if one had reached a magic point along a personal scale and a light bulb went off, indicating that enough had been reached. Maybe that would be nice, but clearly that is not the case.
Honestly, I’ve held of in sharing this reflection with you because I don’t really know how to describe that point of reaching enough. Personally, I consider myself to have enough and plant myself right in the middle of abundance.
Recently, after a long conversation with a taxi driver in Mexico City, I had one of those “Come to Jesus” moments, where this image of the slippery concept of enough became as clear as the day after a heavy rain…crisp.
The driver asked me where I was from, and I said, “The U.S., Arizona.” He said he knew California. The conversation continued and I eventually asked why he came back. He said, “I earned enough money to put a good roof over my family’s head, and that’s all I needed.” I was stunned into silence, left with nothing else to say. I sat there speeding through Mexico City, watching as we zipped through red lights and turned right from the left-hand lane, with a smile. That is what it means to have enough.
So, as I begin to think about fatherhood and continue to work with groups here in Mexico, the question of what it means to have enough rumbles through my thoughts and heart. How will I parent a child to know what enough means? What will their world look like: will this child even face the dilemmas of affluence in 20 years? How might immersion groups come to draw their lines of enough?
It is my prayer that, as we come to know this God of Life and God of Abundance in our world today and in Scripture, we might also be able to identify enough.

Winter Newsletter 2009 by Luke

2010-02-22T18:16:00.002-06:00

The sleepy town of Cuernavaca where we live, known as “The Land of Eternal Spring” and a traditional vacation spot for many living in Mexico City, has recently garnered top international headline news. On Wednesday, December 16, the Mexican federal government captured and killed Arturo Beltrán Leyva, one of the top three most-wanted drug lords in Mexico’s war on drugs, in a high-rise condominium complex a short drive from our house. If you have yet to see the news, please see the following link to the New York Times:

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/18/world/americas/18mexico.html?ref=world

Let me start by saying that Andrea and I, along with those we are responsible for and to here in Mexico, are safe doing just fine. We learned of the news Thursday morning and have been keeping tabs on what has unfolded since. Quite frankly, not much more has happened, but we do realize that anytime such a large player in the drug business is arrested or killed, there is a vacuum created that will inevitably be filled. Filling the void left by Leyva’s death will undoubtedly be violent. So, in this Advent season, we wait. We wait to see when, what, and where this deadly violence might erupt.

With this in mind, I have consistently said to people – friends and family – that the violence is very much targeted, isolated, and in other parts of the country. So, while the violence has very much come to Cuernavaca, I am confident in saying that the violence remains very targeted and isolated between drug cartels and the military. At this point we are clearly concerned about what is happening, but nowhere near needing to make the decision to head north. If the violence does become random and widespread, that is if we become fearful for our safety and that of those around us, then we will certainly take whatever steps necessary to remain as safe as possible.

The timing of this event, while not surprising, given the recent pressure on President Felipe Calderón to “make progress” in his self-proclaimed war on drugs that began when he took office several years ago, it is unfortunate. It’s unfortunate because the Christmas season here in Mexico is rich and full of tradition. December is really full of fiestas and celebrations.

On the 12th, we celebrated the Day of the Virgin of Guadalupe. On this day, hundreds of thousands of people make their pilgrimage to the Basilica in Mexico City (or to their local parish) to pay homage to one of, if not the most, important figure in Mexico. Her image elicits a reverence in most people here for which I have yet to find words. Around this celebration, the streets are lined in bright red Noche Buenas (more familiar to people in the U.S. as poinsettias), ready for sale to people who in turn decorate their sidewalks and homes with the winter-blooming plant. Walking down the street on the Day of the Virgin one can see homes – doors wide open as if to invite in passers-by – filled with families singing, laughing, chatting, and enjoying a meal of hot cider and tamales.

This time of year is also famous for celebrating Las Posadas, the reenactment or remembrance of Joseph and the pregnant Mary going from house to house looking for a place to stay. For this celebration most neighborhoods host a Posada, which resembles a street party. If one was to walk or drive around Cuernavaca after the 16th of December, there is a good chance they would stumble upon a Posada. These parties usually include hot cider, warm snacks, music, and several piñatas filled with fruits, nuts, and candy for the children. When I see the children chasing after a broken piñata, I often remember the excitement of opening the Christmas morning stocking Santa used to stuff full of fun surprises.

In this holiday season there are so many opportunities to come together as a community and celebrate in joy and gratitude here in Mexico. At the same time I find myself carrying a sadness and pain because so often these beautiful and rich traditions, which are lived out so generously and courageously, are lost and hidden to those of us in the U.S. We too often only focus on the striking and sobering images of violence, forgetting that for every dead drug lord there are a multitude of families celebrating the appearance of La Virgen and Las Posadas.

As I turn to celebrating the holidays with family and friends, I am recently reminded of the violent and broken world in which we live. Walking down the street, I am also reminded of, and thankful for, the way in which life continues to be lived and celebrated. For me it is a subtle reminder that for us this Christmas season, we celebrate the birth of God’s child who championed life to the fullest.

In closing, I would like to take a moment to give thanks to those who have supported Andrea and me throughout 2009, this being our first full year in Mexico. Thanks to our families, with whom we had several visits throughout the year. Thanks to our friends (and family!) who let us crash in your homes when we needed a place to stay. Thanks to all of you who have kept us and the communities in which we work and live in your prayers.

And finally, thanks to all of you who have sponsored us financially: Alkon Consulting Group, INC., Schererville, IN; David Bebb & Ann Beran Jones; Fred & Paula Jones; Presbytery de Cristo, AZ; Chuck & Gwyn Roske; Sarah & Ryan Seidel; Steams in the Desert Lutheran Church, Tucson, AZ; Shepherd of the Desert Lutheran Church, Sun City, AZ; Lord of Life Lutheran Church, Sun City West, AZ; Peace Lutheran Church, Peoria, AZ; Our Savior Lutheran Church, Dalton, MN; Holy Shepherd Lutheran Church, Schererville, IN; and Augustana Lutheran Church, West St. Paul, MN.

In Peace & Grace,

Luke

Charity vs Justice, by Luke

2009-10-06T08:34:00.013-05:00

The past few weeks I´ve been thinking a lot about the difference between charity and justice. This reflection started after a lunch conversation between me, a Canadian, and a Mexican at a retreat center in Cuernavaca. We sat at the dinner table, well after everyone else had gone on their way, discussing charity and justice in relation to what the woman from Canada had experienced as part of her trip to Mexico. I will not recount the entire conversation, however, I will say that we covered three main perspectives or approaches to charity and justice:

1. Charity is a way to improve people´s situations. During immersion programs participants are flooded with experiences and images that cry out for the need for charity: children who could easily eat more than one meal a day with a little help from the outside; families whose homes of sticks and cardboard could be replaced by more sturdy bricks and aluminum with very little effort from the north; a parent´s desire to send their child to school with books and uniforms could easily bet met with a little charity; the elderly woman on the sidewalk could eat for a day with an act of charity of 50 pesos. The criticism the three of us identified about charity is that it is seen as a stopgap that often serves to make the donor feel good about themselves, leaving another fed for a day but hungry for life.

2. The focus must be on justice. Justice will eliminate the need for charity. During the immersion program participants are introduced to some of the root causes of injustice in our world today: the effects of agribusiness on small campesino farmers; the displacement of entire communities in order to adhere to the questionable upsides of NAFTA on Mexico´s economy; how national debt and trade policies effect´s Mexico´s sovereignty; and how environmental degradation affects the marginalized and poor first. We - the immersion program - focus on introducing some of the ways our hands as First World Christians are soaked in the blood of injustice and (a very important AND) how we can faithfully live in solidarity with our neighbors around the world. So, we examine structures and injustices, yet turn towards living more consciously and justly in the world. The criticism we identified in this pure pursuit for justice is that, in the mean time - between now and justice - people go hungry, children miss out on education, communities are up-rooted, and the list goes on.

3. Charity is absolutely necessary until people live in a just world. Here in lies the tension: charity vs. justice. Are we to walk by the woman on the street asking for change, with little more than a "Hello," because we know the root causes of poverty? Are we to meet our neighbor in their stick house and leave without a consideration of charity because we are now aware of the evil structures most of us live in and through blindly? Do we, as a global community, witness the hungry child and move on to participate in a march that calls for justice? How is it that we as people connected through the human spirit can live with both an eye on the immediate need for charity, and the vision of a just world?

Our conversation twisted and turned through these three perspectives, leaving us with agreements and disagreements. Eventually, we recognized the 3rd perspective as a good place to begin, even if we found ourselves more in line with seeking justice. I don´t know that any of us left the conversation "convinced," of any one approach, however, we were all thinking. I´m still thinking...

I am still thinking about how to strike the balance between justice and charity, recognizing our conversations about justice often take a back seat to our acts of charity. So, I'm left with these thoughts on the charity vs. justice conversation:

The next time we find ourselves volunteering at the local food pantry handing out food stuffs...
The next time we find ourselves staffing a volunteer shelter...
The next time we find ourselves working at the local recycling center...
The next time we find ourselves building a house in a far off nation...
The next time we find ourselves visiting the local home bound...

...we should extend an open hand of charity - of compassion - but we must not stop there.

We must ask ourselves, "Why."

Why are people hungry?
Why are our neighbors homeless?
Why are some people are literally surrounded by garbage?
Why are more and more people left living in abject poverty?
Why does our society often push loved ones inside?

We must ask why and we must be prepared for what difficult answers will come. These answers will move us towards justice. So, in closing, please continue to extend the important hand of compassion, but do so with every intention to make the important move towards justice.

In Peace,
Luke

September Shalom Article

2009-09-15T11:31:00.002-05:00

Friends and Family,

Below is my September article to Shalom, St. Mark's monthly newsletter. Sorry about the delayed posting. Life continues to be busy here. We just returned from a long vacation weekend in Puebla...famous for churches, Mole, and Chiles en Nogada (a delicious green pepper filled with meat and veggies and fruit covered with a white sauce and pomegranate seeds...these are only in season for about two months a year, so we were lucky!). Anyway, happy reading...
LJRM

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Saludos de Mexico! Hello from Mexico!

The past couple summer months have flown by, thanks in part to a busy work and travel schedule. Andrea and I continue to do well, and grow more at home here in Cuernavaca daily. I hope this finds each of you well in your own place.

A lot has happened here in Mexico since my last article. In late June, the ELCA Immersion Program, with which I serve, welcomed its first delegation since the H1N1 flu virus hit the media in April. The group of 23 high school students came with open hearts and open minds to learn from a variety of people about the reality in which many of our brothers and sisters around the world live.

The following week, in early July, Andrea (my wife) held a closing retreat for the four women serving for a year in Mexico through the Young Adults in Global Mission program. The retreat was a time for the volunteers to reflect upon their year of service, relationships, and experiences here in Mexico. It was a time of closure for this group of four, who had spent a year modeling accompaniment with one another and the communities in which they lived and served.

48 hours after the closing retreat, Andrea and I were off for a month in Chicago, to attend New Mission Personnel Orientation. Normally we would have attended orientation before leaving for Mexico, but we began service at an odd time, so instead we came back eight months into our term of service. While some of the material was already familiar because of our experience, we had the wonderful opportunity to meet other new missionaries. Approximately 60 new missionaries are currently preparing to leave home, to serve God’s people through several different denominations. Not only did the orientation demonstrate the community and relationships that exist between denominations, but it was also a good chance to meet people living out their call in a variety of ways throughout the world.

Many of you know that one of our recent excursions was to Tucson in late July. The reason for the trip to Arizona was my examination for ordination by Presbytery de Cristo. Many of you also know that I was approved by the Presbytery to be ordained to the Office of Minister of Word and Sacrament in the PC(USA)! I know several of you know this because I have been asked several times, “When will the ordination service be?”

I’m glad to announce that this worship service celebrating ordination is scheduled to take place on October 11, 2009 at 3:00p.m. at St. Mark’s, with a reception to follow. So, let this be the first formal request for your presence at this service.

Yes, life has been busy here in Mexico on a number of levels, as I’m sure it has been for you, wherever you are today. My prayer for you, and for our church, is that we might take a moment in our busy lives and take note of where God has called us. Be it a high-schooler learning about Mexico, a young women saying good-bye to her community and her country, a candidate for ordination attending a meeting on a hot Saturday afternoon in July, or students and teachers getting ready for the next school year, may we be still enough to notice God’s presence with us today.

By God’s Grace,
Luke Roske-Metcalfe

Chicago Update II: July 28, 2009 (Luke)

2009-07-28T10:21:00.002-05:00

We stepped off the plane in Phoenix and a blast of hot air greeted us like a furnace. (That was okay, though, because we quickly headed down to Tucson where the temperature was more like a hair dryer.) In total we were in Arizona for 48 hours, several of which were spent driving to Tucson, to Casa Grande, to Tucson, then back to Phoenix. All 8 hours of driving were worth it, however, once we arrived back to Chicago early Monday morning. I write to you (almost recovered from the whirlwind tour) from Chicago, where Andrea and I will be for one more night.

I’m glad to report that Presbytery de Cristo officially approved my call to ordained ministry on Saturday at their quarterly meeting! This means I can finally forgo the phrase, “I hope to be an ordained pastor someday,” which I’ve used for the last couple years when asked if I will be a pastor. I can replace it with, “I’m gonna be an ordained pastor!”

Presbytery de Cristo will ordain me to the ELCA ministry in which I currently serve in Mexico. Basically, I’ll continue to serve in Mexico at the ELCA Immersion Program in the same capacity, but now I can include a “Rev.” before signing my names on correspondences. I must say I’m proud of, and appreciate, both the ELCA and PC USA) for their willingness to work in partnership together on this endeavor.

Many people have asked, “So, when’s the ordination service?” I didn’t want to put the cart before the horse, so I hadn’t set a date for the service before the meeting on Saturday. I hope it will happen in the next three to four months, depending on a variety of variables…I understand ordination services to be similar to weddings. That is, one sets the date around the people you need and want to be present, which takes some coordination. I do not, however, expect to set a date a year or two down the road as in some weddings. As soon as there is a date set, I’ll let you know.

Finally, I would like to extend a word of thanks to all those who made the trip to Casa Grande and attended the meeting. Your presence was a valuable gift. To all of you who were thinking about me and praying for me Saturday morning, thank you!

By God’s Grace,

Luke

The Two Gretels: A Communion Liturgy (Andrea)

2009-07-22T11:08:00.005-05:00

At the final retreat with my Young Adults in Global Mission volunteers, we talked a lot about our hopes and fears around the paradox of returning home as changed people. With that in mind, I used the following poem in writing the Words of Institution for our Closing Worship, and decided to share them here.

Excerpt from The Two Gretels by Robin Morgan

The two Gretels were exploring the forest.
Hansel was home,
sending up flares.

Sometimes one Gretel got afraid.
She said to the other Gretel,
"I think I'm afraid."
"Of course we are," Gretel replied.

Sometimes the other Gretel whispered,
with a shiver,
"You think we should turn back?"
To which her sister Gretel answered,
"We can't. We forgot the breadcrumbs."

So, they went forward
because
they simply couldn't imagine the way back.

Words of Institution

On the night before he was killed,
Jesus was having dinner with his friends.
Things in Rome and Jerusalem were pretty dicey,
and his friends were afraid.

Peter said to Jesus,
"I think I'm afraid."
"Of course we are," Jesus replied.

Mary Magdalene took the bread and whispered,
with a shiver,
"Do you think we should drop the crumbs,
so we can find our way back?"
To which Jesus answered,
"We can't. We need bread for the journey forward."

With that, he took the breadcrumbs, gave thanks,
and shared them with his friends.
"These breadcrumbs will help you find your way," he said.
"Eat them, all of you. They will make you strong and wise."

Then he took the cup, gave thanks,
and shared it with his friends.
"This is the cup of life," he told them.
"Drink of it, all of you;
it will help you to go forward,
to discover who God has created you to be."

And they did.
Jesus and his friends ate and drank and went forward together,
despite their fears,
because they simply couldn't imagine the way back.

(Photo by Kevin Green)

Summer Travels to the Midwest (Luke)

2009-07-22T07:22:00.005-05:00

Greetings from Chicago!

Andrea and I have been in the Chicagoland area now since July 9th. We came into town for several different church events: ELCA Orientation, Ecumenical Orientation (with Lutherans, Presbyterians, Catholics, RCAs, and Episcopals), and the ELCA Summer Missionarys Conference. While we came for the church events, we've been able to connect with family, friends, and colleagues during our free time. In total, we're here for just over three weeks.

This past weekend we had the opportunity to be with Holy Shepherd Lutheran Church in northwest Indiana, the congregation where Andrea served as an intern last year. They invited us to preach at their services and, like good Lutherans (and Presbyterians!), had an ice cream social one night and pot luck the next day, during which we shared about our current ministry through ELCA Global Mission.

We wanted to share the sermon we preached at Holy Shepherd with you, so we've included it below. It was a shared sermon, meaning we were both preaching, so we've noted who said what by putting our names in parentheses.

Andrea and I are headed to Tucson for a very brief visit this Friday to Sunday. I will appear before my Presbytery (ordaining body) to be examined for ordination...a long anticipated event! So, I invite you to keep the Presbytery in your prayers on Saturday at 10 a.m., that the Spirit's presence might be known by all in attendance.

Of course, I will let you know as soon as possible about the outcome of the meeting!

Ephesians 2: 11-22

So then, remember that at one time you Gentiles by birth, called "the uncircumcision" by those who are called "the circumcision" — a physical circumcision made in the flesh by human hands — remember that you were at that time without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. For he is our peace; in his flesh he has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us. He has abolished the law with its commandments and ordinances, that he might create in himself one new humanity in place of the two, thus making peace, and might reconcile both groups to God in one body through the cross, thus putting to death that hostility through it. So he came and proclaimed peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near; for through him both of us have access in one Spirit to the Father. So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone. In him the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; in whom you also are built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God.

Mark 6: 30-34, 53-56

The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught. He said to them, "Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while." For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves. Now many saw them going and recognized them, and they hurried there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them. As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things. When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret and moored the boat. When they got out of the boat, people at once recognized him, and rushed about that whole region and began to bring the sick on mats to wherever they heard he was. And wherever he went, into villages or cities or farms, they laid the sick in the marketplaces, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed.

Sermon

(Andrea) I must admit, Luke and I were a little nervous when we read the Gospel lesson for this week. At first glance, it seems fairly benign…that is, until you try to understand it in light of global mission work, and then it gets a little more dangerous.

It’s really easy to hear the old, stereotypical understanding of mission in this text – to understand missionaries in the position of Jesus, gathering the people around him, teaching them, healing them, showing them compassion. We were afraid you might imagine us in the position of Jesus – gathering the people of Mexico around us, teaching them, healing them, showing them compassion.

To be honest with you, nothing could be further from the truth, and thank God for that! There’s no justice in the stereotypical model of mission. There’s no give-and-take, no equal relationships, no recognition that we all share one table. Fortunately, the Lutheran Church understands this. We understand global mission as an act of accompaniment – of walking alongside people, of learning with them, struggling with them, celebrating with them, worshiping with them. If anything, the people of Mexico are gathering around us, teaching us, healing us, showing us compassion.

We’ve been serving in Mexico for 8 months now. Luke’s work involves leading delegations through immersion programs; helping people from the U.S. and Canada to learn more about Mexican culture, religion, politics, and social realities. I serve as the Mexico Country Coordinator for Young Adults in Global Mission, guiding a group of young people through a year-long program of cultural immersion, reflection, and volunteer service.

Through our work, we’ve discovered a more authentically Mexican version of the Lutheran accompaniment model:

In the indigenous Mayan language of Nahuat’l, there are 2 words for word: the word we speak, and the word we listen to. In Mayan culture, the words we listen to are far more important than the words we speak.

(Luke) One aim of the Lutheran Immersion Program in Mexico is to find ways that we – those of us from the other side of the border – can meet Mexicans where they are. One way we seek to do this is by visiting with families from Patios de La Estación, a very poor neighborhood in Cuernavaca. La Estación is a marginalized community by anyone’s definition: people don’t hold title to their land, most homes are made of sticks and cardboard, and running water is a luxury.

During our most recent visit, I took a group of young Lutherans to visit a woman named Victoria who lives in a two-room house. Victoria’s home has cement floors, brick walls, and a metal roof – which makes it one of the nicest in the community. These home visits are a time for Q and A, an opportunity to hear directly from people who are generally hidden from society. After the participants are finished asking their questions, sometimes the women have questions of their own. During this particular visit, Victoria asked the group, “Would you want to live in my house?” Silence... The silence broke with gut-wrenching honesty. One group member answered and then another, and then another, until everyone in the group had said, “No.”

Experiences with the Lutheran Immersion Program often change people, regardless if they’re Mexican, American, or Canadian. The program intentionally provides a perspective different from what we are used to, and a glimpse into the reality that most people live daily. It’s never easy, but it almost always sparks something. After this visit to La Estación, a young woman named Sarah said something to me that will stick with me for some time. In exasperation she said, “I can’t believe what I saw today. I don’t know what to do, but I feel like I should do something. Part of me wishes that I could just remain ignorant.”

In the indigenous Mayan language of Nahuat’l, there are 2 words for word: the word we speak, and the word we listen to. In Mayan culture, the words we listen to are far more important than the words we speak.

Sarah feels called to learn more, to seek justice, to do something. She listened to Victoria’s story at her home in La Estación, and she can never go back. Ignorance is no longer an option for her.

(Andrea) Every February, Luke and I take my group of young adult volunteers to the U.S./Mexico border. We renew their visas, and then stay for a week, learning about immigration, U.S. border policies, the North American Free Trade Agreement, Operation Gatekeeper, and the social and economic realities that force Mexicans to risk their lives crossing the border without documents.

For two nights, this February, we staffed the Migrant Resource Center, a small building, in Mexico, less than 100 feet from the border. When undocumented migrants get caught in the Arizona desert by the U.S. Border Patrol, they’re released, in Mexico, less than 50 feet from the border. They generally have no more food, no more water, and very little money. They’re often exhausted, dehydrated, and hypothermic, and many have injuries to their feet. The Migrant Resource Center is a place where people can get a cup of coffee, a cup of instant noodles, a sweatshirt, and some basic first aid. It’s a place to regroup – to decide whether to go back home the next day, or to rest up and try again. It’s a haven for desperate people in desperate circumstances.

One of those desperate people, the night we were there, was a 7-year-old boy named Felipe. When Felipe walked into the Center with his parents, I froze – partly because he was so young, and partly because I felt like I knew him. My friend Laurel has a son named Silas who has the most distinct eyes I’ve ever seen. Felipe had these same eyes.

Alisha, one of my volunteers, went over and welcomed them, got them some food and some ibuprofen, and then told me that the little boy needed new shoelaces. “OK,” I stammered. “We’ll find some.” I was still stunned by his eyes. The only laces we could find had frayed ends, but Alisha and I took them and sat, cross-legged, in front of Felipe’s chair, a foot in each of our laps. We talked to Felipe and his family about where they were from, where they were planning to go, what kind of work they would look for when they got to the States.

At one point Alisha turned to me and said, “You know, this would be a lot easier if we just took his shoes and laced them over at the desk.” “No, no!” I said, maybe a little too emphatically. “I’m good, right here. We’ll get it.” I didn’t want to leave. It was like my friend’s son was sitting right in front of me, about to walk for days and days across the desert. I looked up, where Felipe was slurping his Cup of Noodles. He smiled, but the cup was so big that all I could see were his eyes.

When Felipe and his family left that night, they were planning to cross again before sunrise. I don’t know if they tried. If they did, I don’t know if they survived. More than 400 don’t, every year, in the Arizona desert alone. All I know is that I’ve never prayed harder in my life than I did that night, listening to Felipe and his parents, telling stories about their lives and slurping noodles.

In the indigenous Mayan language of Nahuat’l, there are 2 words for word: the word we speak, and the word we listen to. In Mayan culture, the words we listen to are far more important than the words we speak.

I’ll never forget Felipe’s eyes. Listening to him and his parents that night gave me new motivation to seek justice through immigration reform, and new courage to believe that change is possible.

(Luke) It’s tempting to understand today’s Gospel as promoting the stereotypical understanding of mission – where we gather the people around us, teaching them, healing them, showing them compassion. But in his letter to the Ephesians, Paul writes that Christ has broken down the dividing wall, and the hostility between us…that Christ has come to create one new humanity, and to reconcile both groups to God. He goes on to write that we are no longer strangers and aliens, but citizens with the saints, and members of the household of God.

When we’re talking about Mexico, the notion of breaking down dividing walls is no small thing. The concept of no longer being strangers and aliens is no small thing. And for us – for Felipe, Victoria, Sarah, me, Andrea, and you – being members of one new humanity and of the household with God, is no small thing, either. It turns out that the Gospel was right all along, as long as we leave Jesus in his rightful place. Jesus gathers all of us together – Americans, Mexicans, everyone – teaching us, healing us, showing us compassion. It’s only when we recognize this that we can truly walk along-side one another, in equal and just relationships, in search of the kin-dom of God.

(Andrea) In the indigenous Mayan language of Nahuat’l, there are 2 words for word: the word we speak, and the word we listen to. In Mayan culture, the words we listen to are far more important than the words we speak.

We invite you to join us in Mexico, in whatever ways you can – we invite you to pray for us, to sponsor us, to follow our blog, to participate in a delegation. We invite you to come, and listen for yourselves.

St. Mark's Shalom Article (Luke)

2009-06-01T10:58:00.002-05:00

This is my most recent reflection sent to my home congregation in Tucson, AZ and published in "Shalom," St. Mark's Presbyterian Church's monthly newsletter. I hope you are all well and enjoying some time to relax this summer.
~Luke

+++

Reflections from Mexico…by Luke Roske-Metcalfe

Saludos a Mexico, brothers and sisters in Christ! I hope this finds you well and enjoying the beginning of summer. Here in Cuernavaca, the summer season has not officially begun, yet the temperatures say otherwise. People here and throughout the country wonder how the summer tourist season will play out, given the recent headlines from Mexico.

Many people have asked me, “Luke, what do you do in Mexico?” I hope I can answer this question in the next few short paragraphs. I have been thinking about this question since the outbreak of the H1N1 flu because, just like travelers to Mexico for vacation have cancelled their plans, we have seen delegations cancel their plans to join us in Mexico on immersion programs. Either way, the result is the same: millions of dollars lost in tourism.

While I have been thinking about how to answer the question about what I do here in Mexico, I’ve also been thinking about what the difference between what I do here and what tour guides do. On an economic spreadsheet, there is probably not much difference between my work and that of a tour guide. But ask anyone that has vacationed in Mexico and then participated in an immersion program, and they will tell you there is a marked difference. So, what is it?

The ELCA Immersion Program in Mexico seeks to create an environment of education, change, and community in which the Spirit moves. Education falls largely under the umbrella of Mexico’s history, economics, politics, religious traditions, immigration/emigration, food sovereignty, environmental concerns, and relationship with the U.S.A. Change is encouraged and nurtured on an individual and congregational level. A sense of community is created between participants, staff, and the communities visited in Mexico.

Each immersion program that I have worked with since arriving in Mexico has taken on a different Spirit, depending on the participants and their educational interests. While each group has a unique personality, there are consistent pieces. Each trip includes an orientation to the program and our physical surroundings, biblical study throughout the time, space for reflection and discussion, and a closing worship celebration. The pieces that fill in the majority of the trip vary depending on interest and availability, as we do work in cooperation with individuals and communities that have their own responsibilities. As mentioned above, we study a variety of topics (history, economics, immigration, etc.) as well as visit local communities to understand first hand some of the realities in which people live.

Throughout the week, participants are encouraged to do personal reflection on their own lives, while at the same time considering the global community living in God’s good creation.

The decision to meet Mexico through an immersion program is, on some basic level, a choice to take an alternative vacation. The difference between a regular vacation and the immersion program is this: the immersion program is a potentially life-changing experience. I am confident in making this claim, because I have witnessed God’s movement in people’s lives. As you, the people of St. Mark’s, plan your future vacations, I hope you’ll consider the potential that exists in programs like this one.

An Open Letter to the Friends & Families of Returning Young Adults in Global Mission (from the Mexico Country Coordinator, a former YAGM herself)

2009-05-20T08:34:00.006-05:00

My name is Andrea Roske-Metcalfe, and I’m the Country Coordinator for the Young Adults in Global Mission program in Mexico. During our second-to-last retreat this year, I asked my volunteers to write a letter to their friends and family back home. I asked them to write about how they felt, given that they only have a couple months left here. I asked them to write about how they’d changed and what they were afraid of in returning home. I asked them to write about what they had discovered about themselves, and what they were looking forward to in returning home.

I asked them to write it raw. I asked them to be as honest as they could. Sure, I told them, you can send it if you want to. You can make it part of your final newsletter or blog post. But you can always go back and edit for that later.

Write this one raw.

This might seem like a strange request, but I wish that someone had asked it of me. Reverse culture shock is nobody’s idea of a good time, and I’ve gone through it enough (including after my own YAGM year) to know that it doesn’t only affect the person returning home; it affects everyone around them.

So I wish someone had asked this of me. I wish someone had asked me how I really felt, because I only rarely admitted that to myself. I wish someone had asked me to write it down, so I could go back to it later and process it. I wish someone had asked if there were parts of it I wanted to share with friends and family before I returned; something that might have, at least in part, prepared all of us for what would be a bumpy landing.

But no one did, and so I didn’t.

Maybe I’m projecting my own needs onto my volunteers. Maybe they’re all so perfectly well-adjusted with such uber-functional families and uber-supportive friends that everyone will sail through this transition without even blinking.

Then again, maybe they won’t. Either way, I figure it can’t hurt.

The funny thing is, when I asked my volunteers to write a letter, I didn’t exactly expect to write one myself. My husband and I aren’t returning home for good for at least four years, so that transition isn’t exactly looming over my thoughts. Hindsight is 20/20, though, and I know what I would’ve said had someone asked.

And so, I wrote a letter (or a list, as it may be) to you, in case your very own Young Adult in Global Mission doesn’t get around to sending theirs:

10 Suggestions for Helping your Young Adult in Global Mission (YAGM) Return Home

1. Don’t ask the question, “So how was it?” Your YAGM cannot function in one-word answers right now, especially ones intended to sum up their entire year’s experience, and being asked to do so may cause them to start laughing or crying uncontrollably. Ask more specific questions, like “Who was your closest friend?” or “What did you do in your free time?” or “What was the food like?” or “Tell me about your typical day.”

2. If you wish to spend time with your YAGM, let them take the lead on where to go and what to do. Recognize that seemingly mundane rituals, like grocery shopping or going to the movies, may be extremely difficult for someone who has just spent a year living without a wide array of material goods. One former YAGM, for example, faced with the daunting task of choosing a tube of toothpaste from the 70-odd kinds available, simply threw up in the middle of the drugstore.

3. Expect some feelings of jealousy and resentment, especially if your YAGM lived with a host family. Relationships that form during periods of uncertainty and vulnerability (the first few months in a foreign country, for example) form quickly and deeply. The fact that your YAGM talks non-stop about their friends and family from their country of service doesn’t mean that they don’t love you, too. It simply means that they’re mourning the loss (at least in part) of the deep, meaningful, important relationships that helped them to survive and to thrive during this last year. In this regard, treat them as you would anyone else mourning a loss.

4. You may be horrified by the way your YAGM dresses; both because their clothes are old and raggedy and because they insist on wearing the same outfit three days in a row. Upon encountering their closet at home, returning YAGMs tend to experience two different emotions: (1) jubilation at the fact that they can stop rotating the same 2 pairs of jeans and 4 shirts, and (2) dismay at the amount of clothing they own, and yet clearly lived without for an entire year. Some YAGMs may deal with this by giving away entire car loads of clothing and other items to people in need. Do not “save them from themselves” by offering to drive the items to the donation center, only to hide them away in your garage. Let your YAGM do what they need to do. Once they realize, after the fact, that you do indeed need more than 2 pairs of jeans and 4 shirts to function in professional American society, offer to take them shopping. Start with the Goodwill and the Salvation Army; your YAGM may never be able to handle Macys again.

5. Asking to see photos of your YAGM’s year in service is highly recommended, providing you have an entire day off from work. Multiply the number of photos you take during a week’s vacation, multiply that by 52, and you understand the predicament. If you have an entire day, fine. If not, take a cue from number 1 above, and ask to see specific things, like photos of your YAGM’s host family, or photos from holiday celebrations. Better yet, set up a number of “photo dates,” and delve into a different section each time. Given the high percentage of people whose eyes glaze over after the first page of someone else’s photos, and the frustration that can cause for someone bursting with stories to tell, this would be an incredible gift.

6. At least half the things that come out of your YAGM’s mouth for the first few months will begin with, “In Mexico/Slovakia/South Africa/etc…” This will undoubtedly begin to annoy the crap out of you after the first few weeks. Actually saying so, however, will prove far less effective than listening and asking interested questions. Besides, you can bet that someone else will let slip exactly what you’re thinking, letting you off the hook.

7. That said, speak up when you need to! Returning YAGMs commonly assume that almost nothing has changed in your lives since they left. (This happens, in part, because you let them, figuring that their experiences are so much more exciting than yours, and therefore not sharing your own.) Be assertive enough to create the space to share what has happened in your life during the last year.

8. Recognize that living in a very simple environment with very few material belongings changes people. Don’t take it personally if your YAGM seems horrified by certain aspects of the way you live – that you shower every day, for example, or that you buy a new radio instead of duct-taping the broken one back together. Recognize that there probably are certain things you could or should change (you don’t really need to leave the water running while you brush your teeth, do you?), but also that adjusting to what may now feel incredibly extravagant will simply take awhile. Most YAGMs make permanent changes toward a simpler lifestyle. Recognize this as a good thing.

9. Perhaps you had hopes, dreams, and aspirations for your YAGM that were interrupted by their year of service. If so, you may as well throw them out the window. A large percentage of returning YAGMs make significant changes to their long-term goals and plans. Some of them have spent a year doing something they never thought they’d enjoy, only to find themselves drawn to it as a career. Others have spent a year doing exactly what they envisioned doing for the rest of their lives, only to find that they hate it. Regardless of the direction your YAGM takes when they return…rejoice! This year hasn’t changed who they are; it has simply made them better at discerning God’s call on their lives. (Note: Some YAGMs spend their year of service teaching English, some are involved in human rights advocacy, others work with the elderly or disabled, and at least one spent his year teaching British youth to shoot with bows and arrows. The results of this phenomenon, therefore, can vary widely.)

10. Go easy on yourself, and go easy on your YAGM. Understand that reverse culture shock is not an exact science, and manifests itself differently in each person. Expect good days and bad days. Don’t be afraid to ask for help (including of the pharmaceutical variety) if necessary. Pray. Laugh. Cry. This too shall pass, and in the end, you’ll both be the richer for it.

Mexico: One Journalist's View

2009-05-17T10:27:00.007-05:00

Given all the recent, terrifying news about Mexico, and given all the questions we've received about our own personal safety, it seems helpful to post this article, printed today in the Banderas News.

Mexico: One Journalist’s View

By Linda Ellerbee

Sometimes I’ve been called a maverick because I don’t always agree with my colleagues, but then, only dead fish swim with the stream all the time. The stream here is Mexico.

You would have to be living on another planet to avoid hearing how dangerous Mexico has become, and, yes, it’s true drug wars have escalated violence in Mexico, causing collateral damage, a phrase I hate. Collateral damage is a cheap way of saying that innocent people, some of them tourists, have been robbed, hurt or killed.

But that’s not the whole story. Neither is this. This is my story.

I’m a journalist who lives in New York City, but has spent considerable time in Mexico, specifically Puerto Vallarta, for the last four years. I’m in Vallarta now. And despite what I’m getting from the U.S. media, the 24-hour news networks in particular, I feel as safe here as I do at home in New York, possibly safer.

I walk the streets of my Vallarta neighborhood alone day or night. And I don’t live in a gated community, or any other All-Gringo neighborhood. I live in Mexico. Among Mexicans. I go where I want (which does not happen to include bars where prostitution and drugs are the basic products), and take no more precautions than I would at home in New York; which is to say I don’t wave money around, I don’t act the Ugly American, I do keep my eyes open, I’m aware of my surroundings, and I try not to behave like a fool.

I’ve not always been successful at that last one. One evening a friend left the house I was renting in Vallarta at that time, and, unbeknownst to me, did not slam the automatically-locking door on her way out. Sure enough, less than an hour later a stranger did come into my house. A burglar? Robber? Kidnapper? Killer? Drug lord?

No, it was a local police officer, the "beat cop" for our neighborhood, who, on seeing my unlatched door, entered to make sure everything (including me) was okay. He insisted on walking with me around the house, opening closets, looking behind doors and, yes, even under beds, to be certain no one else had wandered in, and that nothing was missing. He was polite, smart and kind, but before he left, he lectured me on having not checked to see that my friend had locked the door behind her. In other words, he told me to use my common sense.

Do bad things happen here? Of course they do. Bad things happen everywhere, but the murder rate here is much lower than, say, New Orleans, and if there are bars on many of the ground floor windows of houses here, well, the same is true where I live, in Greenwich Village, which is considered a swell neighborhood — house prices start at about $4 million (including the bars on the ground floor windows.)

There are good reasons thousands of people from the United States are moving to Mexico every month, and it’s not just the lower cost of living, a hefty tax break and less snow to shovel. Mexico is a beautiful country, a special place.

The climate varies, but is plentifully mild, the culture is ancient and revered, the young are loved unconditionally, the old are respected, and I have yet to hear anyone mention Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan, or Madonna’s attempt to adopt a second African child, even though, with such a late start, she cannot possibly begin to keep up with Angelina Jolie.

And then there are the people. Generalization is risky, but— in general — Mexicans are warm, friendly, generous and welcoming. If you smile at them, they smile back. If you greet a passing stranger on the street, they greet you back. If you try to speak even a little Spanish, they tend to treat you as though you were fluent. Or at least not an idiot.I have had taxi drivers track me down after leaving my wallet or cell phone in their cab. I have had someone run out of a store to catch me because I have overpaid by twenty cents. I have been introduced to and come to love a people who celebrate a day dedicated to the dead as a recognition of the cycles of birth and death and birth — and the 15th birthday of a girl, an important rite in becoming a woman — with the same joy.

Too much of the noise you’re hearing about how dangerous it is to come to Mexico is just that — noise. But the media love noise, and too many journalists currently making it don’t live here. Some have never even been here. They just like to be photographed at night, standing near a spotlighted border crossing, pointing across the line to some imaginary country from hell. It looks good on TV.

Another thing. The U.S. media tend to lump all of Mexico into one big bad bowl. Talking about drug violence in Mexico without naming a state or city where this is taking place is rather like looking at the horror of Katrina and saying, "Damn. Did you know the U.S. is under water?" or reporting on the shootings at Columbine or the bombing of the Federal building in Oklahoma City by saying that kids all over the U.S. are shooting their classmates and all the grownups are blowing up buildings. The recent rise in violence in Mexico has mostly occurred in a few states, and especially along the border. It is real, but it does not describe an entire country.

It would be nice if we could put what’s going on in Mexico in perspective, geographically and emotionally. It would be nice if we could remember that, as has been noted more than once, these drug wars wouldn’t be going on if people in the United States didn’t want the drugs, or if other people in the United States weren’t selling Mexican drug lords the guns.

Most of all, it would be nice if more people in the United States actually came to this part of America (Mexico is also America, you will recall) to see for themselves what a fine place Mexico really is, and how good a vacation (or a life) here can be.

So come on down and get to know your southern neighbors. I think you’ll like it here. Especially the people.

The Idle Parent Meets the Kindergarten Roundup: A Mothers' Day Post (Andrea)

2009-05-10T14:56:00.017-05:00

This post is a bit of a digression from the usual Mexico-related experiences. Then again, without some of the formative experiences my mom provided for me, I probably wouldn't be here to begin with. Happy Mothers' Day, Mom, and the same to all you other mothers out there!

I came across a series of articles on Slate.com the other day called The Idle Parent, excerpts from the book of the same name by Tom Hodgkinson. I was intrigued by the title, so I clicked, and spent the next 30 minutes laughing so hard that grapefruit juice came out of my nose. Hodgkinson champions the notion of parents doing whatever they want, in order to give kids the freedom to learn from their own mistakes. His examples include saying yes to all your kids’ requests, so that they tire of you and leave you alone; staying home and never taking them to amusement parks; allowing your pets to parent for you; and laying in bed all day with a hangover. This method of parenting, Hodgkinson claims, leads to kids who are “strong, bold, fearless, and much in demand wherever they go!”

The Idle Parent series reminded me of a recent New York Times article about the difficult decisions facing the parents of New York City kindergarteners. The recession is affecting everyone, it seems, and so parents who had always assumed they’d send their kids to private school are now re-thinking things. The New York City public school system, however, requires you to send your children to schools in the district in which you live. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Some parents, convinced that the right or wrong kindergarten will determine their children’s entire educational future, are establishing fake residences in other parts of the city. Other (more law-abiding) parents are attempting to move to more desirable school districts, even if it means selling their homes for far less than they’re worth, and squeezing entire families into tiny apartments.

All this for the right kindergarten, with the assumption that, with the right kindergarten, one’s child will most assuredly be admitted to Harvard.

I must admit, I prefer the notion of Idle Parenting to the reality of the New York City kindergarteners. These polar opposite parenting methods have gotten me thinking about my own upbringing. I have fond memories of growing up, in part because my parents left me – and my siblings, for that matter – to our own defenses on a fairly regular basis. My childhood wasn’t inundated with Baby Einstein videos, I wasn’t forced to do foreign-language flash cards when I was 2 (but I nannied for that poor child), and apart from the fact that I felt obligated to play the French horn because my mom had written it on a wish list in my baby book while I was still in utero, I didn’t feel like my parents imposed their unfulfilled dreams into my decision-making.

My parents were, for the most part, Idle Parents, and I never felt the kind of pressure that these New York City kindergarteners must feel.

Except, that is, for one occasion.

I am 5 years old. I don’t know it yet, but it’s the day before Kindergarten Roundup – the day when parents take their up-and-coming kindergarteners to school for a day of testing, to determine which classroom will be theirs, and to determine – as some parents believe – their entire educational future.

I don’t know anything about Kindergarten Roundup, but I know that something is up. My mom is acting funny. Usually, when I play outside, I don’t have my parents’ undivided attention. Usually, they’ll help me start a sand castle, and then they’ll rake some leaves. Usually, they’ll give me a couple pushes on the swing, and then they’ll pull some weeds. Usually, they’re (relatively) Idle Parents. Today, however, I have become a New York City kindergartener. Today, I have my mom’s undivided attention.

Today, my mom is determined to teach me how to skip.

I’m confused. I’d really rather play in the sandbox, and I don’t understand what’s so damn important about skipping in the first place. I don’t understand that skipping is one of the skills that will be tested at the Kindergarten Roundup. I don’t understand the gravity of the situation. I don’t understand, as my mother does, that my entire educational future hangs in the balance. But, stereotypically-people-pleasing oldest child that I am, I’m willing to give it a go.

My mom and I give it a go all freakin’ afternoon. It becomes clear that I am genetically predisposed to galloping, rather than skipping, and no amount of “Step-hop! Step-hop!” is going to change this. We have our moments: a couple of times, in my attempts to gallop even better, I accidentally skip without realizing it. We celebrate, I try again, and I eventually start to get the hang of it.

The next morning, in what I now recognize as the first of many pre-exam cramming sessions, my mom and I go outside for one last practice round. “Step-hop! Step-hop!” I think I’ve got it, and we pile into the car. My mom is clearly nervous about something; I’m just excited about the McDonald’s orange drink that inevitably goes along with events held in gymnasiums.

In the gymnasium, we gather with all the other 5-year-olds and their parents. A smiley woman calls my name, and my mom and I set down our paper cups of orange drink to follow her. She leads us to a room with a balance beam, a low table with wooden blocks in different shapes and colors, and a large open space in the middle. The smiley woman and I sit down together at the table, and I quickly identify all the shapes and colors. My mom lets out a long breath that neither one of us realized she’d been holding, and says, “Great job, honey!”

I smile at her, but I’m confused again. We play with blocks at home all the time, but it’s never a big deal. My mom is smiling, but the tension is thick. Next, the smiley woman asks me to take my shoes off, and to walk from one end of the balance beam to the other. Understanding that this must be more important than balancing on the yellow curb at home (the smiley woman has a clipboard, after all), I concentrate very hard, and make it all the way to the end without falling off.

“Yeah!” my mom shouts, so suddenly that, had I still been on the balance beam, I probably would’ve fallen off. “Great job, honey!” I grin and duck my head, grateful for the praise, even if I still don’t understand what we’re doing in this room with the smiley woman and her clipboard.

“Thank you very much for coming in today,” says the smiley woman, as I struggle to put my shoes back on. I stand up, assuming that those words indicate the end of this bizarre play date. “Oh, one last thing,” the smiley woman remembers. “Can you skip across the room for me, sweetheart?”

My mom sucks in her breath. My heart is beating in my throat, and I can’t remember “Step-hop!” I must have stood there for a minute, because my mom said, “Go ahead, Andrea, skip across!”

So I did. I skipped with all the gusto I could muster. I skipped right up to the smiley woman’s clipboard, where she looked at me, looked at my mom, and scribbled some notes. I turned around to see my mom looking nervously at the smiley woman (who wasn’t so smiley anymore), and then I knew – I had done it wrong. I had forgotten the “Step-hop,” and I had galloped across the room.

“Mom?” I ask, aware that I have made a mistake, and aware that the tension has thickened. But then, something changes. My mom stops looking at the woman’s clipboard, and looks right at me. A big, huge smile spreads across her face, and she says, “Great job, honey. You did a great job.”

And that’s all it took. The tension in the room was gone. The smiley woman smiled again, held the door open for us, and my mom and I went to McDonald’s for a happy meal.

It turns out that I needed Idle Parents more than I needed to be a New York City kindergartener. My mom and I had tried on the latter, and it didn’t fit either one of us very well. So the smiley woman couldn’t check all the boxes on her clipboard – so what? I may not be “strong, bold, fearless, and much in demand wherever I go,” but I didn’t turn out to be a total idiot – I can cook a pizza; I can hold down a job.

25 years later, there’s a lot more pressure to conform; a lot more pressure to be perfect. I don’t envy those New York City kindergarteners. But I do admire my mom – and my dad, for that matter – for recognizing the value in being (relatively) Idle Parents, and for trusting themselves enough to let me do my own thing.

My mom was right. I galloped my little ass off in that room, and I did a great job. I still hate to skip, to this day. Clipboards don’t do much for me, either.

Waiting for bus with my mom, on my first day of kindergarten. (Clearly, we both survived the Kindergarten Roundup, although the bus ride and its aftermath are the makings of an entirely different blog post.)

Drug Violence, Swine Flu, and Earthquakes: Reflections on John 20:19-31

2009-04-27T17:26:00.001-05:00

The past several weeks my community of faith has been celebrating Easter, the resurrection of the Christ. In this celebratory time of our Christian calendar, we celebrate God’s vindication of Jesus’ life in the resurrection. We proclaim the life of Jesus as divine, and seek to go out and live likewise. We are claimed and called, as a community of faith, to go out into the world in Easter celebration to witness and proclaim God’s love in this world. The news of the day from El Norte and from my perspective in Mexico, however, is different from this gospel message. The current news tells us to stay inside, don’t go to Mexico, it’s dangerous. How is it that we as a community of faith are called into the world, yet are continuously informed of the many dangers that lie just outside our front (or back) doors?

A couple Sundays ago, most of us heard a biblical passage from the gospel of John, including the account of Thomas. This is the familiar passage where Doubting Thomas says, “I’ll never believe [in Jesus’ resurrection] without putting my finger in the nail marks and my hand in the spear wound.” Then, Jesus invites just that: the examination of the wounds inflicted upon him during his crucifixion. Upon examination, Doubting Thomas proclaims, “My Savior and my God!” He has seen the resurrected Christ in the flesh, he is able to feel the scars, and he looks upon the mortal wounds inflicted upon our Savior just days earlier. Thomas had no room left to doubt.

Undoubtedly, those of us sitting in the pews the week after Easter Sunday heard this story. We also probably heard a sermon drawing on, and illustrating, the power and witness of the resurrected Christ in our world today. I fully hear Jesus’ proclamation to Thomas: “You’ve become a believer because you saw me. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

While I fully hear the hopeful wisdom in Jesus’ words, I would also like to note the setting of this passage, especially in light of current events that link Mexico and the USA even more closely.

The disciples had locked themselves in their room for fear of the authorities.

Fear.

Fear that the authorities might do to the disciples as they had done to Jesus. The authorities were, in fact, powerful enough to cause reason to fear and doubt.

A look at Jesus’ life helps us to see that he proclaimed God’s reign by crossing borders. He healed the sick, broke bread with outcasts, and forgave sins, creating a new way for God’s people to live. Throughout Jesus’ life, we see borders crossed and the new life that comes in the wake of speaking and acting boldly in a world living in fear.

In recent months and days in Mexico, I have heard a similar fear that has led to many questions about crossing the border. Today we experienced a minor earthquake in Mexico. Today we live through the unfolding of the Swine Flu outbreak and wonder what news will come next. U.S. officials suggest not traveling to Mexico. Mexico’s government has closed schools, museums, and sporting events. Last month we read warnings from U.S. officials not to travel to Mexico because of the violence between warring drug cartels. These concerns of violence continue today. Each headline increases the level of fear for those who live here, and for those thinking about traveling to Mexico.

I am not writing to dismiss the valid concerns people have about current event in Mexico. We should be cautious. The violence – while typically isolated between drug cartels – is gruesome. The Swine Flu – though not at pandemic proportions – has led to death in our community. We, as a community of faith, must continue to pray for an end to the violence so that communities may live in peace. We must continue to pray for those whose loved ones have died here in Mexico because of the Swine Flu.

We, as a community of faith, should recognize that the bombardment of warnings thrown at us about health and safety do create a level of fear. We should recognize this fear, but not be bound up by it. I am concerned that this fear will take hold of us in such a way that it prevents us from living the lives that God has called us to live.

Rather than the passage leaving readers with a sense of fear, Scripture leave us with peace. Peace be with you. These are the first words out of Jesus in the midst of the frightened disciples, and words he repeats throughout the account. As our community of faith seeks to live out God’s call on our lives we need to be cautious. At the same time, we are wise to distinguish between the caution that allows us to live freely in a world, and the fears that keeps us locked up behind closed doors and borders.

God’s peace be with you.

~Luke

St. Mark's Shalom Article (Luke)

2009-04-27T13:46:00.005-05:00

(This is my most recent letter written to my home congregation of St. Mark's Presbyterian Church in Tucson, AZ. It should be published in their monthly newsletter May 1st, 2009.)
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Dear St. Mark’s Community,

Saludos de Mexico! Hello from Mexico! Having just returned home from an oh-so-short visit to Tucson, and Easter celebrations at St. Mark’s, I thought a letter would be appropriate. While this letter is very overdue, I think of the congregation often and remember you in my prayers.

Since my last letter, life in Mexico has been busy…but for surprising reasons! Of course I have been accompanying immersion program groups who come to Mexico for a week, as well as supporting Andrea (my wife) in her ministry with the Young Adults in Global Mission (YAGM) program. These two responsibilities have kept me busy, but I had been preparing for my most recent trip to Tucson in my free time.

“For what had I been preparing?” One might ask. Well, on April 9th (Maundy Thursday) I met with Presbytery de Cristo’s Committee on Preparation for Ministry (CPM) and Committee on Ministry (COM) at Northminster Presbyterian Church. The meeting with the CPM was my final assessment of my readiness for ordained ministry in the PC(USA). As you might imagine, there were several forms to be filled out, but I also had the opportunity to preach a sermon to the committee, as well as, present my statement of faith.

The meeting was excellent! The Spirit was present during our hour and a half conversation. We spoke about why I was ready to seek a call to ordained ministry in the PC(USA). I am very pleased to share with you that the committee approved me ready for ordination pending a call and examination by Presbytery. The committee’s decision illustrates our belief that even though one might have a personal sense of call to ministry, a community should also affirm this sense of call. The journey did take a while, but we were all faithful in the process: trusting in the Spirit to guide us.

Immediately following the CPM meeting – with hardly a chance to celebrate and to catch my breath – I met with the COM. Our conversation lasted another hour and a half. This meeting focused on my current ministry in Mexico serving through the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America’s (ELCA) immersion program. We spoke about the ways in which this ministry relates to my sense of call to ordained ministry and the Presbytery’s role in caring for it’s pastors. I am very pleased to share with you that this committee validated the ministry of the Associate Program Director of the ELCA’s immersion program. I am proud of our presbytery for making this decision and it is significant for two reasons. First, Presbytery de Cristo’s decision to consider this an “ordain-able ministry” illustrates our church’s commitment to ecumenical relationships. The ELCA and PC(USA) have had a long-standing relationship that allows pastors to service in either denomination. The second reason this decision is important – on a personal note – is that this is the capacity in which I currently serve, and to which I can be ordained! Very exciting indeed!

So, pending final details, I plan to appear before Presbytery for examination on July 25th in Casa Grand, AZ. Please consider this an invitation to “save the date,” and consider attending this meeting as you are able. It would be great to see you there!

On another note, I look forward to sharing more about my current ministry in Mexico in upcoming Shalom articles. I have a much better grasp on the transformational ministry of immersion programs than I did during my orientation.

In closing, I would like to thank you, the congregation of St. Mark’s for being good soil. You have nurtured and encouraged me to grow (though I grew slowly at times and will continue to grow), and for that I am eternally grateful.

En La Paz de Cristo,

Luke

April 27: Swine Flu (Luke)

2009-04-27T13:40:00.002-05:00

Dear Family and Friends,

I hope this letter finds each of you well where ever you might be. I think of you often, even though I don’t have the opportunity to speak with you quite so much.

Andrea and I are doing okay in light of the most recent whirlwind coverage of the Swine Flu. Yesterday Felipe Calderon, Mexico’s President, appeared on television giving his account of this outbreak. It seems as if he has the most recent health concern “under control,” much in the same way that he’s making progress in the war on drugs and cartel violence. The news here is flying just as it is in El Norte, and we continue to keep track of what’s unfolding.

On Friday, April 24th, I stepped off a bus from Cuernavaca into a Mexico City bus station and into what seemed like a movie. Every single employee and most of the passengers wore masks. From the front page news reports and international coverage about the swine flu, clearly this is not a movie. The daily reports here include the number of deaths, reaction on what has (or hasn’t) been done so far, op-ed articles about what should be done, and the suggestion to only go outside in public if absolutely necessary.

Yesterday (April 26th), Andrea and I drove by the Olympic Stadium at the National University, where the Puma soccer team plays. There were riot police out in full gear, indicating that there would be a game in front of hundreds of thousands of people. The night before, however, we learned that the game would be played in an empty stadium. It was eerie to pass by, seeing the police in riot gear, and knowing that the stadium – usually bursting at the seams – would be empty.

One question I keep hearing from the media is, “Why is the flu virus so much more deadly in Mexico than in the US?” This seems to be the one hundred thousand dollar question. Speculation continues this morning: is it a different strain? Have Mexicans been dealing with it for several more weeks than those in other countries? …

One theory seems most logical to me: nutrition, or a lack thereof. While I don’t know the personal history of those who’ve died from the flu, I’d be willing to bet that some of them suffered from some level of malnutrition. Over two-thirds of Mexico’s people live in poverty. One face of this poverty is malnutrition. In order to fight off the flu – whatever type – one needs to have a solid base from which to work. Many Mexicans suffer from inadequate nutrition, leaving people that much more susceptible to disease.

Would having a country (or all of North America) full of well-nourished people prevent such a health concern as swine flu? Probably not, but this might have reduced the grave effect it’s had on over 80 people. A country full of well-nourished Mexicans might have had a step up on this flu, as well as the countless other health problems people currently face here because of the abject lack of proper nutrition.

I’m not a doctor and will wait to see how this swine flu “outbreak” unfolds just like the rest of us, taking precautions by washing my hands regularly, eating well, and getting enough rest.

I am, however, a theologian, and I wonder about the existence of malnutrition. I believe God created a world which provides sufficiently for all of its inhabitants. Science demonstrates that the earth can support the people living here today. Then why is it that so many millions of people go hungry today and everyday? Why is it that, in a world of such abundance, some of us go away fed, and some of us go away empty?

Popsicles, Wool Sweaters, and Ordinations (Andrea)

2009-04-27T11:51:00.027-05:00

I was ordained at my home church in West St. Paul, MN on March 1. This day was long in coming - for years, I didn't think I wanted to be a pastor; once I realized that I did, I wasn't sure I could stand to be. My candidacy process was filled with joy, heartache, questions, discernment, frustration, discovery, and the support of more amazing people than I could possibly hope to count. This day was a celebration - dear friends and family gathered from all over the country, both in person and in spirit, as we celebrated the work that God is doing in the world.

This day was a day for me to set out on the path of who I am and who I am to become as a pastor. I decided to forgo the sanctuary in favor of the fellowship hall. In the sanctuary, we sit like we do on a school bus, everyone facing in the same direction. In the fellowship hall, we could sit in a circle; we could gather as a community, and God knows I need a community supporting me in this endeavor. I had theological questions about the ordination liturgy, and so Barbara Lundblad (my seminary advisor) and I worked with the bishop to make it more inclusive - for me, for God, and for everyone who gathered - and more authentically representative of what we believed was happening that day.

This was a day that, in the end, made me feel as though I had made the right decision. I was afraid of feeling more cramped afterward; of feeling that I was now expected to fit into a box that didn't fit me. Instead, I felt free. I felt like the parts of me that don't fit into the box had been validated, and that the box, in turn, had gotten a little bigger. I would bet that it also had something to do with the charge that Janet Walton, my seminary mentor, offered to me during the service:

Lurking around the edges of ordained ministry is a notion of perfection. Be ye perfect, you know the rest. Perfection is a very tightly wrapped expectation with very little wiggle room. I urge you instead, Andrea, to accept the open-ended challenges of imperfection. Unlike perfection, it has no bounds. Imperfection makes space for mercy, embraces doubts as necessary steps of human development, and imperfection calls us more often to compassion.

Blessed are those who accept the norm of imperfection; they will have more need of God and of one another.

On Saturday, I had the privilege of attending the ordination service for the first 3 women to be ordained in the Lutheran Church in Mexico: María Elena Ortega Mora, Sofía Deyanira Tenorio May, and Ángela del Consuelo Trejo Haager. This day was long in coming for them, it was a celebration, and it was also the day for them to set out on the paths of who they are and who they are to become as pastoras.

Theirs is the only ordination service I've been to besides my own. Despite all these similarities, it felt very different. We sat as we would on a school bus, and the three women stood the entire time, facing away from the people. The service lasted 2 and a half hours. "It must feel lonely to be the first women ordained," I thought. "There you stand, and the only people talking at you are men." To be fair, much of these differences are cultural. But I couldn't help thinking about the struggles that lay ahead for these women, and I couldn't help thinking about how grateful I am for the women who went before me in my own church, whose struggles have freed me to take on different struggles of my own.

A few months ago, I heard a lecture on Solidarity Economics by a woman named Elba Flores. Solidarity Economics involves supplying something that's actually needed, rather than supplying something that isn't, only to create an artificial need. She told us about a group of women who, in order to improve their economic situation, decided to create a co-op to sell goods. One woman knew how to make really good popsicles, so they decided to sell those. The only problem was that they lived high up in the mountains, where it's very cold. No one in their village actually needed popsicles. What the people needed, they realized, was warm clothing. They needed wool sweaters. The only problem with this was that none of the women knew how to spin wool, or how to knit sweaters.

So they learned. These women set out to address an authentic need in their own communities, even though it took more work on their part. They set aside the status quo in order to address the situation around them. That, to me, is what vocation is all about. Vocation is about figuring out where our gifts meet our neighbors' needs, and going from there.

I hope their ordination was a day that, in the end, made María Elena, Sofía, and Ángela feel like they had made the right decision. I hope they find the courage to make wool sweaters. I hope I find the courage to make wool sweaters. The world has enough popsicles already.

Retrospective on 2008 to Present… (Luke)

2009-01-26T10:35:00.002-06:00

Don’t worry, this will not be terrible detailed, and comes as a response to all those who have their acts together and sent out a Christmas card. To all those who sent Andrea and me their lovely cards, thank you!

2008 was quite the year for the two of us, full again with several transitions and notable events, some of which I would like to share with you today.

Andrea and I began 2008 in northwest Indiana where Andrea successfully completed her Lutheran internship with Holy Shepherd Lutheran Church. It is safe to say that everyone involved – Andrea, her supervisor, the congregation, and I – learned quite a bit. This was my first taste of what it means to be a pastor’s spouse. No, I didn’t play the organ, teach Sunday school, or stand at the front doors of the church. I did get to enjoy scrumptious potlucks, play at social gatherings, and support the craziness that is “parish ministry.” At the end of August, Andrea completed her year at Holy Shepherd with an emotion-filled day of food, stories, smiles, and tears. Thank you, Holy Shepherd!

In January I took (and passed!) four of my written Ordination Exams for the PC(USA). Unfortunately, I took five! So, one more to go in February…the preparations continue from Mexico…

During my last semester of seminary at McCormick I completed my fourth unit of Clinical Pastoral Education at Rush University Medical Center in Chicago. As a part time chaplain intern, I fulfilled part of my competencies to be a licensed hospital chaplain, should that be an option down the road. The internship kept me on my toes: seeking a balance between it, seminary work, ordination preparations and, of course, being a pastor’s spouse.

In April I made my annual pilgrimage to Tucson to meet face to face with my Presbytery. I am very happy to say that – after three years – I am now a candidate in the process to be ordined as a minister of Word and Sacrament in the PC(USA).

In May I graduated (some would say “FINALLY!”, myself included) from McCormick. Rev. Otis Moss III preached at the convocation, a message that had Presbyterians, Lutherans, Baptists, and everyone else shouting, “Amen!” It was certainly a memorable day. It was made that much more memorable as my family was able to make it despite health concerns and long distances. The day was quite the moment for the Jones family, now having three generations of seminary graduates.

The summer after graduation, I worked at a small factory that made Big Trucks, literally. I came on to the factory as an “unskilled laborer,” hoping not to loose a finger. While I learned a lot about cleaning, cutting, welding, and grinding large pieces of steel into intricate machine parts, I learned much more about and from the people struggling to hold up the manufacturing industry in northwest Indiana. The community is shrinking but still working as hard as it was during the boom years.

Andrea and I said our goodbyes to northwest Indiana and Chicago at the end of August, unemployed and wondering what would be next. We put most of our earthly belongings in a 10’ x 15’ storage unit in St. Paul, MN and packed up our car with camping gear. We headed west on a three-week roadtrip, followed by three weeks in Tucson. And what a trip it was!

National Parks, family, and friends were the goal of our roadtrip. Through God’s grace and a little bit of luck, we made it. Our stops included the Badlands National Park (NP) & Black Hills; Wind Cave NP (one of my favorites); Mt. Rushmore and Crazyhorse Monuments; Yellowstone NP; Glacier NP; two wonderful nights with Ryan, Sarah, and their son AJ in Washington State that included a trip to the fair; a quick drive by Mt. Rainier; a largely forgettable night near Mt. St. Helen; Redwood NP; a couple days with our friend Heather on the beach in Santa Barbara; a pass over the Golden Gate Bridge; a night with Andrea’s friend Heidi in Oakland; two nights with my sister Rachel and her fiance Adrian in L.A.; a night in Las Vegas; and three nights on the north rim of the Grand Canyon. We arrived in Tucson road-weary and smelling like roses for a week long visit with my parents.

The time in Tucson was important and restful as always. While we were there, Andrea and I received the invitation to serve through the ELCA in Mexico. In our excitement, we caught up with friends and family wondering about what lay ahead. St. Mark’s, my home congregation, commissioned us to our service with the ELCA (see blog entries above).

As we headed back to MN to prepare for Mexico, we stopped in Kansas City to visit my college friend and kindred spirit Ryan, his wife Erica, and their two sons.

The visits to the national parks reminded me – again – just how short of a time we have on this earth, and that our lives must consider those who are to come. We have a priceless responsibility to our grandchildren’s grandchildren. Visits to friends and family reminded me of where I personally come from, and those who have been a part of who I am…for better or for worse.

In Minnesota we prepared four our trip to Mexico City and Cuernavaca. This is about the time at which the blog went up, pictures and stories included. Please see previous posts for more...

2008 was quite the year for Andrea and me. We are grateful for the experiences, encounters, and growth that have happened throughout. We give thanks for our families, whose love continues to grow for us as ours does for them. To our friends, who we’ve spoken with recently and not so recently: you are in our thoughts and prayers, and we give God thanks for your spirit.

Here’s to a great 2009 that has already started with a shot into the national arm with the inauguration of President Obama. My these good vibes and his leadership continue throughout his term. May your – our – 2009 be full of peace, hope, and love.

In Peace,

Luke

Dia de La Virgen (Luke)

2008-12-14T19:15:00.011-06:00

December 15, 2008

This newsletter comes at a deeply profound time of the Christian calendar. As I write this,
many Mexicans here are returning home to rest from their celebration and reflective pilgrimage on December 12th, which was the first appearance of La Virgen de Guadalupe back in 1531.* The Christian community remains in the midst of the anticipatory season of Advent, preparing for the birth of the Christ child. For this reason, I would like to share with you an experience I had recently in Mexico City which, for me, touches on the faithful response, hope, patience, celebration, expectation, renewal, and challenges through God incarnate that come during this time of year.

I share my experience at the Basilica in Mexico City on the day before La Dia de La Virgen de Guadalupe, keeping in mind my work with No More Deaths and providing humanitarian aid to migrants crossing the brutal Sonoran Desert and U.S.-Mexico border.

A group of ten people – seminary students, pastors, professors, and I – traveled to the Basilica on December 11th to witness the faithful act of millions of Mexicans. As one local paper reported, the faithful pilgrimage to, and celebration of, La Virgen is to not to make requests, but to remember everything that La Virgen has done for the people. Upon our arrival to the Basilica grounds, the profound meaning of La Virgen de Guadalupe became apparent.

The day that we made our visit, 250,000 people were expected to make the circuit. On December 12th the crowd was expected to swell to 2 million faithful pilgrims. The experience became deeply personal, yet global for me once we passed through the Basilica building and made our way up the hill to the chapel. I found myself shoulder to shoulder with several dozen people within the mass of 250,000. The sights and sounds connected directly with the hundreds of Mexican and Central Americans whom I encountered during my time as a volunteer with No More Deaths, and reminded me of the hundreds of thousands who continue to make the trek to El Norte annually.

As we collectively walked up the hill, it was hard to miss several people making their pilgrimage on their knees. We walked up cement stairs – about 15 stories in all – and along the way people remained on their knees. The grimaces from the pain reminded me of the faces of migrants in the Sonoran desert with deadly blisters on their feet and cactus spines embedded in their skin.
Some of the faithful pilgrims had large framed glittered pictures of La Virgen strapped to their backs with rope, some carried wooden crosses, others carried candles, others carried their small children, while still others carried backpacks strapped with rolled up blankets and food supplies. At first I thought many of the items were simply symbolic, especially the food stuffs. After a brief conversation with a gentleman from Puebla, Mexico, however, I learned that many people walked for days before arriving at the Basilica. The man from Puebla explained that he and his six companions had left two days prior and walked the entire way. The travel, along with the supplies chosen for this pilgrimage mirrored those found in the desert: people tired from traveling for days on end, empty water bottles and cans of meat, dirty diapers, blankets, backpacks, and small images of La Virgen in the form of wallet-sized photos and rosaries.

From atop the hill outside the smaller chapel, people rested and looked down into the crowd, watching as the mass slowly flowed through the sacred space. On the slow walk down there were areas where people had set up camp. Families rested together – ten to fifteen to twenty in a row – sharing blankets and tarps. The images of the families reminded me of the powerful moment of finding a group of migrants in the desert in the midst of their long journey. Often times these groups were lie in arroyos, dry river beds, covered not in blankets, but black plastic garbage bags, seeking to stay hidden and warm.

A final comparison to the borderlands that I noted during my walk through the grounds of the Basilica were the faces in the crowd, especially the people resting. As I walked and observed the faithful I noticed the looks I received. People stared at me, wondering what I, a gringo, was doing at a Mexican holy observance. The looks and eye-to-eye contact reminded me of the same wide-eyed looks of migrants who were face to face with a gringo in the desert.

These were the images the struck a deep chord with me. There were other aspects to this experience that were not seen, but felt. Many times in the desert, especially while working with migrants in distress, there is a great sense of fear. Fear of the travel, fear of an encounter with the very people that they are trying to hide from, fear of what might happen next along the rough terrain.

There was no fear involved in this journey to remember La Virgen’s activity in the lives of many. The time at the Basilica was full of another sense for these people making their pilgrimage. The bags, blankets, crosses, pictures, and grimaces were not out of necessity, but out of love, joy, faith, hope, and gratitude.

Just as in speaking with migrants crossing the desert, there was a palpable sense of profound faith in the crowd of 250,000 people this early evening. A migrant’s faith carries them into the desert and into the land of unknown. The presence of faith remembering La Virgen seemed to be one out of response to how God has been, and is present, in people’s lives.

This advent season we prepare by hearing the prophetic words of Isaiah and the coming Immanuel, God with us. We prepare, just as the Mexicans do on their holy pilgrimage, to remember how God has been, and is present, in our lives. We celebrate the Christ child who came not as a king, but as the child of a family seeking refuge. We celebrate the promise of a new year and go forward. We are renewed by our faith to face the challenges ahead, and to anticipate how God will be present on our journeys.

* For a full account of the appearance, please visit, http://www.mexconnect.com/mex/guadalupe.html, http://www.laprensa-sandiego.org/archieve/december06-02/virgin.htm, or any decent history book about Mexico.

The Fish Fair, Coatetelco (Andrea)

2008-12-14T10:21:00.017-06:00

The Fish Fair includes lots of fish to eat (naturally), lots of local artisans selling their wares, and an indigenous Nahua ritual of thanksgiving to the Mother Earth, facilitated by our friend, Felipa.

Eating fish (whole fish - fried, cooked in tamales, or cooked
in spicy broth) and drinking ginormous beers

Heidi, acting very professional after just finding out that she would be
participating in the thanksgiving ritual to Mother Earth.

We offered rice...beans...

...cookies...wrapped candy!

One of the young dancers makes her offering

The finished offering

Canoes on the lake

Afterward

Bienes Raices; Good Roots (Andrea)

2008-12-12T16:20:00.006-06:00

Real Estate. I understand the concept, but I had never thought much about the phrase. I know a few realtors. I get annoyed when people misprounounce “realtor” and say, instead, “reel-a-tor.” But I had never thought much about the phrase “Real Estate.”

Until, that is, we needed some. Luke and I arrived in Cuernavaca with 4 suitcases, 2 carry-ons, and the expectation that we would find ourselves a place to live. Dave & Sue, Presbyterian missionary friends, were gracious enough to comb through the classifieds. Heidi, the woman whose job we’re stepping into, was gracious enough to spend an entire day house-hunting with us.

Most of the places we considered were simply being rented by the people who owned them. One house, however, was being rented through a real estate agency. I didn’t realize this at first. Part of the reason may be my lack of real-estate-specific Spanish vocabulary, but part of the reason might also be that the Spanish term for Real Estate has nothing, really, to do with the housing market.

It’s Bienes Raices.

Literally, Good Roots.

I’ve thought a lot about that phrase since then, and not only because we did indeed rent that house. The phrase makes sense to me. Bienes Raices…Good Roots. It’s more about a place to call your own than about the physical property; more about a home than a house.

Bienes Raices…Good Roots. The phrase makes sense to me, because I’ve always understood myself as someone who could make just about anywhere feel like “home,” and in a very short period of time. But somehow this time was different. The problem, it seemed to me, was our distinct lack of “stuff.” Everywhere else I’ve ever been – whether it was a room in a dormitory or a cot in a shelter or a sleeping bag in a tent – there was some stuff: a bed, a dresser, a chair. Even if it wasn’t my stuff, it was a place to start, and I could add bits and pieces of my own. We had a house in Mexico, but we didn’t have any stuff.

The deal with the church went something like this: find a place to rent and then, because you could only bring what you could carry, go out and buy the stuff you need. This sounds fun, right? My mom thought so. My mother-in-law thought so. I thought so, too. We were about to furnish an entire house from scratch. Ready, set, go.

So we began. The first day, our neighbors (who also happen to be our landlords) took us to Ocotepec, where local carpenters craft muebles rusticos (rustic furniture) in a very traditional manner. We bought a table and 6 chairs, a bookshelf, a desk, a coffee table, and 2 nightstands. The carpenters piled every last piece into the smallest pickup they could find, and tied it all down for the ride back to our house.

“This will make all the difference,” I thought. “Now we’ll have some stuff.” But I was wrong. It still didn’t feel like home. The stuff didn’t matter.

The problem was, when you can only bring 4 suitcases and 2 carry-ons for a new life in a foreign country, you bring a profound lack of “useless” stuff. You bring important things, like clothing and shoes and computers and toothbrushes. You don’t bring artwork or candles or comforters. Basically, you don’t bring anything that makes your house feel like your house; anything that makes your house feel like your home.

This occurred to me, that night, more in a visceral way than in an intellectual one. Standing there, at 11pm, staring at the unfamiliar kitchen table and the empty bookshelf, I knew I couldn’t go to bed until something changed.

We had brought one small carry-on of books and framed photos. It was heavy. It was upstairs. The staircase is spiral, and it was 11pm. But it mattered, and so Luke carried those books and photos downstairs so I could arrange them on the bookshelf. I slept well that night (in my sleeping bag, next to Luke in his sleeping bag, on our air mattress, because we had yet to find a bed or a blanket). I slept well that night, because our Real Estate was beginning to feel more like Bienes Raices.

It’s been slow-going. It does sound fun to furnish an entire house from scratch, but it’s really only fun in theory. It meant that we were on a mission almost every day for weeks. You can buy pots and pans, but you can only really use them if you have dishes. You can buy dishes, but you can only really use them if you have a drying rack and dish towels. You can buy plants and flower pots, but you can only really use them after you find potting soil.

This is not to sound ungrateful; don’t get me wrong. The church is abundantly generous in providing for its mission personnel, and the fact is not lost on us that we’ve been spending more in a week in “setting up camp” than most Mexicans make in 6 months. It is to say, however, that “stuff” has its place in putting down good roots. It’s also to say that all the stuff in the world isn’t enough to make a house a home, if the people inside can’t make it their own.

We had a party a few weeks ago. That was the turning point for me. That was the night when we opened our door to the people who will become our family here. That was the night when our house came alive. That was the night when I knew that we had indeed planted Bienes Raices; Good Roots. They may not be deep yet, or strong, but they’ve begun to grow.

We still have a few more things to get, in order to have the “stuff” we need for living. But I’m not worried anymore. We’re done with Real Estate. We’ve planted good roots, and they will undoubtedly spring forth new life. That’s the next part of the journey. We don’t know what will grow next.

Luke's Shalom Article for December 2008

2008-11-22T15:20:00.001-06:00

November 15, 2008

Musings from Mexico…

“Welcome…Bienvenidos…” a common phrase and Biblical image with which Andrea and I have become quite familiar over the past few months in the U.S. and Mexico. We left northwest Indiana – our apartment, my seminary, and Andrea’s internship community – in late August, and have basically been traveling ever since. Our journey from St. Paul, MN to Tucson and back (all two months of it) were filled with the refrain of “Welcome!” as we visited people along the way. Our friends and family warmly welcomed us and extended amazing hospitality.

Our experience of living out of a vehicle in the U.S., visiting friends and family, shifted sharply to the south on November 1st when we arrived in Mexico; Cuernavaca to be more specific. On November 1st we began what we hope and expect to be a challenging and deeply moving four-year term of service with the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) Global Mission Unit. Andrea will be working with the Young Adults in Global Mission (YAGM) program based in Cuernavaca, and I will be working for the Lutheran Center (LC) in Mexico City.

At this point in our journey (about two weeks in), we have met many new people and seen many new places. In each community we are warmly received, often with the words, “Bienvenidos, Lucas y Andrea. Nuestro casa es su casa!”

These were the first words we heard from Fernando and Angeles when we arrived to stay in their home. This couple of 40+ years meant every word. The next morning Andrea and I found ourselves sitting at their kitchen table surrounded by their three grown children, their spouses, several grandchildren, and one great grandchild. Their children arrived at different times, each time saying, “Bienvenidos!”

“Bienvenidos!” said our teacher Roberto as we arrived at CETLALIC (an acronym), the language school where we will study through the end of November. This school seeks to provide a progressive and welcoming environment for students of all backgrounds, and uses the teaching method of “hear, see, act, reflect.” Many might recognize this as the manner of Liberation theology which sprung from Central American countries in the 1970’s. Our afternoon discussions centered around NAFTA, Mexico’s rich history, and the country’s political situation. Each discussion included a palpable hum around the outcome of the U.S. presidential election.

“Bienvenidos!” said Kim, the director and teacher at the Lutheran Center, as we, along with the four YAGM volunteers, arrived for a retreat in the county’s capital. Our theme for the retreat was global food distribution. We reflected on our time thus far in Mexico, and met with a representative of local farmers to discuss the effects of NAFTA and corporate globalization on local communities in Mexico.

“Bienvenidos!” said Sr. Kathy with a smile, as we arrived to stay at CCIDD in Cuernvaca until we found a home of our own. CCIDD (another acronym) is a Christian education center that seeks peace and justice through working with delegations and groups from the U.S. and Canada who come to discuss and learn about local realities of politics, history, and culture in Mexico.
“Bienvenidos!” We look forward to extending this warm welcome to family and friends who come to visit us in our new house, which we found just two days ago. We will take some time to make it home, but look forward to having an open door for all who visit.

Grace and peace be with you as you seek to welcome the strangers among all of us,

Luke Roske-Metcalfe

Blogging from 32,000 feet... (Luke)

2008-11-02T16:22:00.001-06:00

Andrea and I are on the airplane in US airspace at the moment. Of course, by the time we post this, we’ll have landed and made it to Cuernavaca because, as far as I am aware, “The Internets” have yet to be wireless here. Regardless, technology is amazing! Anyway…

We’ve been talking a lot about our excitement, anxieties, and curiosities about moving to Mexico the past couple days. Yesterday, as we made our last minute stops, I wondered aloud, “Andrea, what are you most nervous about?” A brief moment of silence passed and I broke in, “Maybe, better yet: what are the top five things you’re most nervous about?”

Our conversation led to Andrea’s top five concerns: 1) Getting acclimated to our surroundings 2) Cat Calls 3) Transitioning with the current volunteers 4) Working out our schedules in order to balance work responsibilities with personal time together and 5) Getting sick. I agreed with Andrea on her list. I also added my curiosity about how I might remain fully present with the communities in Mexico, while staying connected to communities in the States. A second addition to the list of “Top 5” is being responsible for translation. At this moment, Andrea studies her flash cards and I wonder if I should be doing the same…nahh.

As some of you might know, I am a big fan of marking big transitional moments in one’s life. I love the big celebrations in the Christian tradition: baptism, confirmation, marriage, and funerals. I also like to note the “other” transitions such as moves and job changes because, not only are they significant and stressful, but buried under all this is change. Most of us don’t handle change too well, and in fact some of us avoid it altogether. So, I like to celebrate this transition as opposed to avoiding it, because it is an opportunity to move forward and to grow.

One way to acknowledge, if not celebrate, this transition is to look forward and look back while embracing the moment. Andrea and I are trying to look forward (especially since we’re in the thick of a long day’s worth of travel): talking about our concerns and what excites us about this next chapter. Looking forward to language school, meeting the current year-long volunteers and other Lutherans and Presbyterians in the area, finding a home, etc.

Looking back, I remember the nervousness during my travel to begin my year of volunteer service in Guatemala and am grateful that the nervousness of today is much different. I am not nervous about what “it” will be like, or how “it” will work out, or if we’ll be okay. I am nervous about getting all our stuff to Cuernavaca. That’s going to be a challenge. There are several instances to which Andrea and I could look back that led up to this new period: language studies, volunteer opportunities, two + years of marriage, four moves, and the list goes on. In order to lodge where Andrea and I are at today – 32,000 feet in the air – I consider this: at the end of our term of service of four years, we will have spent more time in Mexico as a married couple that we have spent in the US as a married couple. Hmm.

October 25, 2008: Seven Days & Counting... (Luke)

2008-10-19T15:07:00.002-05:00

One more week before Andrea and I depart for Mexico. That amount of time seems so far away yet approaching much too quickly at this rate. We are eagerly awaiting our departure but trying to remain present in order to say good byes...oh yeah, and we have to pack! So, this upcoming week is going to be a doozy. We both understand that we are approaching a turning point in our lives, but neither of us are quite sure what life will hold once we turn that corner.

My anticipation reminds me of Christmas mornings as a child trying to sneak a peak at the Christmas tree before anyone was awake. No matter how hard I stretched my neck, or layed on the tile floor in my pj's to get a better view, I could not quite see what Santa hopefully brought the night before. We can't fast forward to next week - nor would we want to - but boy, we are excited!

The past few weeks have been delightfully busy. My home congregation of St. Mark's Presbyterian Church in Tucson commissioned Andrea and I on October 5th for our term of service. The commissioning itself was a lovely event. The children of the church layed their hands on the two of us during the commissioning prayer. Fast forward a couple weeks, and we were commissioned at Andrea's home congregation - Augustana Lutheran Church - in West St. Paul, MN. We were glad to have had present a representative from the "Global Mission Unit" of the ELCA. All of this is to say we feel sufficiently commissioned by each of our home congregations and will take their supportive prayers with us to Mexico.

Our preparations to leave for Mexico continue. We drove from Tucson to the St. Paul area a week and a half ago. Along the way we had the opportunity to catch up with some friends and family. The trip was good, though not as long as the three-week road trip of the National Parks of the West we took en route to Tucson during September. I celebrated my 30th in Yellowstone!

Anyway, we will be here in MN until we leave. We hope to put the finishing touches on our packing as well as spend some QT with friends and family in the area.

Our first few weeks in Mexico City and Cuernavaca seem to be taking shape slowly. We tentatively plan to spend the first week in intensive language school at CETLALIC in Cuernavaca. We'll take a break from intentional language studies to attend a retreat with the Young Adults in Global Mission and begin orientation to our new responsibilities. On a side note, the ELCA has provided Andrea and I two months of orientation with the current Country Coordinator which is a real blessing! Anyway, the third week we hope to return to language studies full-time. After that, our time is up in the air. We'll certainly continue with orientation to our responsibilities, but how that will take shape is any one's guess!

Well, thanks for reading this most recent post. We hope you are well and look forward to hearing from you. Thank you to those who have posted already. It is good to hear from you!

In Grace & Peace,

Luke

First Post, Ever! October 10, 2008

2008-10-10T15:39:00.001-05:00

It's finally up! Our blog is going! We're excited to finally be posting here because it means that we've finally figured it out and that our departure date is that much closer. Still no actual tickets, but we expect to leave on November 1st (El Dia de los Muertos). We are both greatly anticipating our arrival in Mexico, but know that good-byes here will be difficult. Know that we are thinking of our family, friends, and supporters during this time.

Following is the letter we wrote as our first official correspondence as ELCA long-term mission personnel. Some of you should receive it in the mail within the next few weeks, along with some information from ELCA Global Mission about supporting us in this work. We didn't, however, have everyone's address, so if you'd like us to include you in the official sponsor list, just let us know. You can also check back here for sponsorship information. Thanks in advance for all your support, in whatever form it may take!

Opening Letter, October 2008

2008-10-10T15:35:00.000-05:00

Dear Friends, Family, and Colleagues,

Greetings to you as we make our final preparations to leave for Mexico! We hope that this letter finds each of you well. We’re writing to share a little bit about how we came to find ourselves moving to Mexico’s capital city, and how we will be serving the church while there. We hope you see this letter as an invitation to join with us on this journey.

As some of you may know, we’ve both felt called to serve the church in an international capacity at some point during our lives. Neither one of us, however, expected to receive an invitation to do so at the very beginning of our ministry careers! Regardless, here we are, making final preparations to serve in Mexico for four years, beginning in November. We will be serving under the care and auspices of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) Global Mission unit.

Our responsibilities in Mexico are with two distinct programs. Andrea will be working as the Mexico Country Coordinator for the Young Adults in Global Mission (YAGM) program. She’ll work primarily out of Cuernavaca – about 55 miles south of Mexico City – where we’ll also be living. Andrea will be responsible for accompanying the young adults through their year-long term of service, which includes securing work placements and housing, planning in-country orientation and periodic retreats, and general troubleshooting, as well as program administration.

Luke’s responsibilities will be in Mexico City at the Lutheran Center, an ecumenical educational retreat center. Luke will be the Program Associate for the ELCA Immersion Program. He’ll help prepare for delegations from the U.S. and accompany them – through hospitality, translation, and group reflection – during their time in Mexico.

While we both anticipated serving through Global Mission at some point, we never imagined having positions that seemed so tailor-made to our own experiences, skills, and interests. We actually met serving through the YAGM program, Andrea through the ELCA in London and Luke through the Presbyterian counterpart in Guatemala. Andrea worked for ELCA Global Mission for an additional year, recruiting young adults to serve through the YAGM program. Luke served an additional year of domestic service through the Presbyterian Church on the Arizona/Mexico border, providing humanitarian aid and working for more just border policies. We look forward to being able to draw on these past experiences as we explore our new mission roles in Mexico.

Our first two months in Mexico will be filled with orientation, preparation and language studies. Just as we leave our friends, families, and communities in the U.S., so we look forward to forming new relationships and becoming a part of new communities. We anticipate meeting the risen Christ, who both sends us and goes before us. We ask that you keep us in your thoughts and prayers, especially during this time of transition.

In God’s Grace,

Luke & Andrea Roske-Metcalfe