THE MIXTURE OF JOY AND GRIEF
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| Sophia with others in preparation |
My oldest child,
Sophia is nearing the end of our undergraduate college career at Wheaton
College. We’ve been fortunate to be
near her in Chicagoland for 3 of the years she has been at Wheaton. During this time Sophia has been part of
Arena Theater / Work Out. We’ve so
much enjoyed taking in her shows. For
the next two weekends (February 19-21st,
25-28th) Sophia is playing Agnes Mundy in Brian Friel’s,
“DANCING AT LUGHNASA.” If life goes as we now see it this will
be the last time we see Sophia acting at Wheaton.
“Dancing at Lughnasa” is a 1990 play set in Ireland's County Donegal in August 1936 in the fictional town of Ballybeg. It is a Memory play told from the point of view of the adult
Michael Evans, the narrator. He recounts the summer in his aunts' cottage when he was seven years old. This summer
stands out in his memory for three reasons - the return of his uncle Jack after
his service as a missionary in Uganda for 25 years, getting their first
radio set, and a visit from Michael's father - Gerry Evans.
As you can
probably imagine a play with a Ugandan missionary theme with our daughter
Sophia’s playing in her senior college year is one full of many emotions. Grief and joy mix freely.
SO PAINFUL I COULDN’T SPEAK / TOO CLOSE TO HOME
Our
family together took in the play for the first show on Thursday, February
19. I loved the Irish country
setting. The stage was amazing. The intimate nature of Wheaton’s Arena
Theater left us so close to the actors we could have touched them. As the radio played the sisters danced to
traditional Irish music. It reminded
me of the dances that filled our homes in Africa. Joy abounded. A brother who had served 25 years in Africa
came home. The local parish had
considered him a hero of the faith. I
anticipated a play filled with celebration.
Yet the
anticipated celebration was not to be.
As the story continued it became horrendously painful. When the play was over I was in so much
emotional pain I could not speak. The
play was far too close to home and my own experiences.
The
brother, Father Jack Mundy came home suffering from an
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| 1996 in Uganda before my first spine surgery |
intense bout of
malaria. His body was weak. His mind appeared cluttered and
confused. He struggled at times to find
English words to express his thoughts.
I’ve been there before. When I’m
at my peak of fitness I weigh between 185 and 195 pounds. During winter in America I sometimes balloon
to 205 to 215 pounds. During my darkest
malaria days in Uganda my weight dropped to 155 pounds. I remember what it is like to lose my
physical strength. Malaria medicine
causes me to have bizarre and frightening hallucinations. There are some words and phrases in African
vernaculars that are my intuitive way to express certain emotions. At times I too cannot remember how to
express certain intimacies of life in English.
I know I must look foolish to those who have not had my privilege to
live in Africa.
As the story
continued it became apparent Father Jack was a beloved missionary by the
Ugandan people he served. I’m thankful
that was also my reward. I left Africa
at peace with Africa. In fact, I was
deeply blessed by Africa. I know
missions’ history and the personal anecdotes of missionaries well enough to
know that only a few missionaries receive the treasure I’ve received to leave
their field of service completely at peace with the field.
Yet,
Father Jack’s return was not one of honor.
His supervisors had sent him “home” in disgrace. Upon his return, he was ostracized from the
faith communities of his biological birth nation. Father Jack’s faith had become
syncretistic. He had so mingled
African Traditional Religion with his Christian faith that it no longer
represented Christianity. I had not
done that.
However,
I’ve heard young missionaries resistant to my mentoring rumor monger that I’m “too
African.” My former supporters said the
same things. Upon our return to the
USA two years ago I had expected celebrations similar to Paul and Barnabus’
return to the Antioch church (Acts 14.) I had anticipated celebrating all God
had done in 19 years in Africa. I had
anticipated raising more resources, recruiting and training new missionaries,
and returning to Africa to give the rest of my life to her service. Instead, I was ignored and ostracized.
If
Father Jack had been a missionary I was serving with I
would have gone for long
walks with him. I would have shared
many cups of tea. I would have sat in
meals together. I would have feasted,
laughed, and danced with him. I would
have also cried and deeply grieved with him.
I would have tried to persuade him with an open Bible to reconsider
Christian faith with an African flavor.
If he had been resistant I would have tried to get him assigned to
developmental work where he could serve African people without having a
teaching role. Yet, if is presence was
just too charismatic if I had been his supervisor I would too have dismissed
him. He had taken a leap my
understanding of Christian faith could not tolerate. That decision of mine would have woken me
from my sleep for years. It would have
been one of great pain no matter how it was done.
The
play had some other elements that were far too close to home. It took place in one of the last Irish villages
to be overcome by the Industrial Revolution.
Agnes and Rose Mundy knitted gloves in the traditional cottage
industries of Ireland. They sold their
gloves to a wholesaler. The wholesaler
became a factory. Agnes at 41 years old
was too old to be hired by the factory.
Rose had a mental handicap and thus also was not hired by the
factory. The dignity of their
livelihood was stripped away. That has
happened to me also. I returned to the
USA at the age of 46 being told I was “no longer compatible” with my
denomination. I tried to restart in
other places where I sensed I theologically could fit. Only church planting organizations would
give me a shot for which I am very thankful, but my age made me a misfit for
most other Christian churches and organizations. Our family income most months is less than
our bills. We live as the urban
poor. My sons describe me as “the
fittest fat man we know,” and “one who can lift massive amounts of weight and
run forever.” Yet, I’ve had 4 surgeries
on my spine. While I can lift and
run I
must keep my lifts controlled. Awkward
twisted lifting will quickly send me into pain. When I try to find work just with my hands
the interview questions go to lifting.
When it is discovered that I’ve had 4 spine surgeries the interview
ends. Few will take a risk upon me due
to my age and past health.
Kate Mundy is a devout Catholic school
teacher. She loses her job due to the
association with her brother, Father Jack.
To this I can also empathize.
Educational initiatives were a part of my missionary career. Few professors were as loved as I by their
students. Few professors were able to
bring out the best in their students as the Lord allowed me to. Few started schools with the timing the Lord
allowed me to have. Few saw as many
students receive scholarships in the places the Lord allowed me to
navigate. A returned missionary with my
network, cultural understanding, and academic prowess should have been able to
find work. Yet with neither a doctorate
nor connections I’m unemployable in American academics. I empathize with Kate Mundy.
Rose Mundy is assaulted in what I
perceive to be a rape by an unseen character Danny Bradley. Her sisters try to protect her in their
discernment that something is not right with Danny Bradley’s motives. Yet, for a moment they are unable to cover
all their bases. Their regret and
grief is one with which I can also empathize.
For some unique reason my pastoral instincts to protect were quite
good. Our churches were close to
violence some times, but escaped catastrophic ones. The Lord seemed to give me a sense of when
to go for a walk, when to lock doors, who to hire and fire as guards, etc… Yet, several times I let my guard down and
extended trust to a missionary who was a predator. My sleep is still troubled by the Africans
who were exploited due to my misplaced trust and lack of discernment.
Lastly, the narrator of “Dancing at Lughnasa,” Michael Evans is
the child born out of wedlock to Christiana Mundy and Gerry Evans. When Gerry Evans first walked near my seat I
wanted to kick the despicable character he represented. Yet as time wore on he became
endearing. Eventually, it is disclosed Gerry Evans has another wife and set of children. He cannot marry Christiana and be a true
father to Michael. We watch the
horrific consequences upon women and children due to the West’s culture of
serial polygamy.
As we sorted out missionary moral
failings in Africa I came away
convinced I was never told the truth. Every time I saw a mixed race child in a
neighborhood or village where I knew of missionary moral failings I did my math
and biology. Was this child a clan mate
of mine? What was my responsibility to this child? How do we corporately heal the wounds of
our sins? Surely God’s grace can find a
way.
The play ends with unsorted
pain. There is not a happy ending. It is tragedy. The tragedies all are very close to home and
my missionary experience. I could
hardly speak. Yet, I’m proud of my daughter. Also, my faith has hope.
WE ARE TO LEARN EMPATHY
I woke Friday, February 20 and
turned to 2 Corinthians. I read, "God’s
encouragements are adequate for all life’s
troubles. Thank God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, that he is our Father
and the source of all mercy and comfort. For he gives us comfort in our trials
so that we in turn may be able to give the
same sort of strong sympathy to others in theirs. Indeed, experience shows that
the more we share Christ’s suffering the more we are able to give of his
encouragement. This means that if we experience trouble we can pass on to you
comfort and spiritual help; for if we ourselves have been comforted we know how
to encourage you to endure patiently the same sort of troubles that we have
ourselves endured. We are quite confident that if you have to suffer troubles
as we have done, then, like us, you will find the comfort and encouragement of
God. (2 Corinthians 1:3-7 (PHILLIPS.)"
Why should
such a painful play be written? Why
should we see it? Why should we not walk
out when the pain is too much?
Because
life is full of pain and as followers of Jesus we are to learn empathy with
suffering. As we accept God’s mercy and
comfort we learn to extend God’s mercy and comfort to others.
NORTH AMERICAN CHRISTIANITY IS JUST AS SYNCRETISTIC AS AFRICAN
Missionaries
extend God’s mercy and comfort to other
locations. The call to be a missionary is to leave one’s
cultural home at the prompting of the Holy Spirit to go to another culture for
the purpose of making disciples, developing churches, and ushering in new kingdom
possibilities. With such a definition
many cultures are in desperate need of missionaries in their midst. I believe North America is going through a
season of eternity in which missionaries need to come from Africa to America to
bring about revival of Christian faith.
Father
Jack obviously had allowed his Christian faith to become syncretistic with
African Traditional Religion. I would
hope his character would not be the source of ridicule nor false empathy. Instead,
I hope Father Jack’s character will cause North American Christians to wrestle
deeply with their own forms of syncretism. Missionary mentors coached us to assume it
would take us two to three years to understand the basics of a new
culture. After two and one half years
in America I see that North
American Christianity is as syncretistic if not more so than African
Christianity.
As
secularism mingles with Christianity the image of God is confined and
domesticated. God can only act in our
simple formulas that remove Him from our day to day lives. We brazenly proclaim our understanding of
miracles disappeared thousands of years ago.
As
individualism mingles with Christianity our focus drifts to “personal salvation”
and our “personal relationship with Jesus.”
Both are Biblically true. Yet,
truth without tension leads to the heresy of the simplistic. “Jesus speaking to me” becomes an idol to
manipulate for selfish experiences.
The needs of a community can be ignored. The grossest of human sins becomes our place
of comfort. The vulnerable in our
community are falsely judged, exploited, and discarded. Some examples of the fruit of this
syncretism include Christian Non-Profit Organizations who make a living
marketing poverty to meet donor emotional needs. Also,corrupt clergy become rich and sexually abuse the
vulnerable. More subtly this syncretism
allows us to ignore our single mother neighbor’s unshoveled sidewalks.
As
materialism mingles with Christianity we assume
prosperity is a fruit of the
Spirit. The health and wealth gospel
is one of the grossest forms of idolatry this syncretism takes. However, we dare not forget that though we
have much teaching in the Bible about wise living and money we have no Bible
book dedicated to the acquisition of middle class prosperity. The prophets of the Old Testament and the
Apostles of the New Testament did not think the acquisition of things was worthy
of either an entire sermon or written letter.
Syncretism with materialism produces an entire genre of literature and
ministry industries in our Christian bookstores. When
we become part of the syncretistic industry we no longer have the courage of
prophets to see poverty is created by unjust systems. The Jubilee calls us to use the strength of
our institutions to forgive unjust debt and then build policy frameworks noted
for the Biblical paradoxes of justice and mercy.
As
consumerism mingles with Christianity it becomes almost impossible for the
uninformed to differentiate our assemblies from a concert, theater, or sports
event. Our itchy ears move about
seeking to find comfort with little commitment. We elevate leaders to demi-god like status
and use words the Bible most frequently uses to describe God to describe the
leaders of humanity. Our pastors
become not wise neighbors and friends, but distant celebrities. We hunger for the latest fads in Christian
music, art, literature, and technique.
The old and historic is forgotten.
Our
North American faith is just another form of syncretism and generations who follow
us will offer strong judgment if we do not repent. Maybe, the missionaries in our midst will
whisper answers prompted by the Holy Spirit?
AFRICA HAS GRACIOUS ANSWERS TO OUR CORPORATE SIN
As
Father Jack understands his sister, Christiana wrestles with the loss and
loneliness of a single mother and his nephew, Michael wrestles with the
disappointment of an almost abandoned child he offers African reflections. Life is not this way in a polygamous
home. Each wife has a hut. Each child has a place. Together they labor and laugh.
I remember
the first time a mixed race child told me, “I have three moms.” I remember another time when I went home
with a friend to visit her three moms.
I remember gathering around the bedside of a friend’s father as all the
children and wives prepared to grieve his transition to another world. Polygamy as Africa practices it is more
gracious to women and children than the serial polygamy of the West.
Yet,
polygamy is still a disaster filled with jealousy, intrigue, and frequently
systematic and enduring poverty.
Yet, the
African missionary in our American midst whispers, “Let’s
open the Bible. Let’s listen to God. Let’s forgive one another sins. Let’s resolve to change. Let’s creatively find the best solutions to
the mess of our corporate sin. We can’t
get it perfect in this world. Yet,
another day is coming.”
“Our
God is sovereign. He creates and orders
the world. He guides History, but never
forces His will upon us. We make
choices that bring consequences that are both good and bad. He forgives and restores.”
Though “Dancing at Lughnasa” offers little joy
in the end this is not the nature of life.
Joy is one of the fruits of the Spirit.
It can be our life’s tone no matter what the situation. Missionaries of old and today still sing
with joy even when they live in poverty or even face death because of their
faith. Africa knows this truth of God
well. Her missionaries bring to America their
fashion, music, and food. God
mysteriously provides. No matter how
small our home or our budget we can always find a place at our table for a
visitor. We are blessed by the visitor’s
presence as we are by the spring rains.
Though “Dancing
at Lughnasa” offers little justice as the play ends this is
also not the
nature of eternity. Though some may not
see justice in this life because we are made in God’s image we hunger for
justice. Our souls are stirred as we
hear, “But let judgment run down as waters, and
righteousness as a mighty stream (Amos 5:24. King James Version.)”
Thus “Dancing at Lughnasa” reminds
us of these ancient words, ”And what other examples shall I give? There is
simply not time to continue by telling the stories of Gideon, Barak, Samson and
Jeptha; of David, Samuel and the prophets. Through their faith these men
conquered kingdoms, ruled in justice and proved the truth of God’s promises.
They shut the mouths of lions, they quenched the furious blaze of fire, and
they escaped from death itself. From being weaklings they became strong men and
mighty warriors; they routed whole armies of foreigners. Some returned to their
womenfolk from certain death, while others were tortured and refused to be
ransomed, because they wanted to deserve a more honorable resurrection in the
world to come. Others were exposed to the test of public mockery and flogging,
and to the torture of being left bound in prison. They were killed by stoning,
by being sawn in two; they were tempted by specious promises of release and
then were killed with the sword. Many became refugees with nothing but
sheepskins or goatskins to cover them. They lost everything and yet were
spurned and ill-treated by a world that was too evil to see their worth. They
lived as vagrants in the desert, on the mountains, or in caves or holes in the
ground.
All these won a glowing testimony
to their faith, but they did not then and there receive the fulfilment of the
promise. God had something better planned for our day, and it was not his plan
that they should reach perfection without us (Hebrews 11:32-38. J.B. Phillips New Testament.)”
Please go see Wheaton College’s Arena Theater’s production of “Dancing
at Lughnasa.” If you are one of our
family friends it’s one of your last chances to see Sophia in Work Out. If you just a curious seeker bring some
tissue, read some in 2 Corinthians and Hebrews 11 before you come, drink it in
deeply, and prepare to have your missionary resolve strengthened.
Yet, I also see that immigrants represent the values that most resonate with
my interpretation of the ideals of America. They are more likely to be employed
than native born Americans. Asian and African immigrants are twice as well
educated as native born Americans. Almost all immigrant groups have lower rates
of divorce. They have more kids. Their
children are more likely to be born to married parents. They attend church more often. They reason in
community. Their homes are multi-generational. They have higher rates of
entrepreneurial success. Though I'm currently a political abstainer I tend to
vote conservative. I find my conservative family values are more represented in
immigrants to America than in native born Americans.
