Reflections on Diocesan Mission to San Pablo Apostol, Jimani, Dominican Republic April 12-20, 2013 Our first sunrise As I reflect on the Mission Team from the Episcopal Diocese of East Carolina s week at San Pablo Apostol in Jimani, Dominican Republic, Frederick Buechner s definition of vocation comes to mind: The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world s deep hunger meet. When sixteen members from seven different Episcopal churches (Holy Trinity Episcopal, Hampstead; Church of the Servant, Episcopal, Wilmington; St. Peter s Episcopal, Washington; St. Francis Episcopal, Goldsboro; Church of the Good Shepherd, Wilmington; St. James the Fisherman, Shallotte; and All Saints Episcopal, Southern Shores) met in Raleigh on April 12 to begin our travels to Jimani, we were strangers on the road together. But over the course of the week, we slowed down to island time and became companions in Christ, finding joy in each other and in the people of Jimani. A seven-hour bus trip out of Santo Domingo took us to Jimani, bordering Haiti, which is in the poorest area of the Dominican Republic next door to the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. Many Haitian immigrants fill the city. Work is scarce. Hiding from immigration officials is common. When we visited the marketplace at the border, some saw commerce and the opportunity for people to make a living, while others saw despair and trash pollution. Trash and the border provided fodder for introspection about the eyes with which I view that which is different. Do I look with the soft eyes of Christ s compassion and connection, or do I look with the hard Commerce at the border eyes of Picking up trash privilege, judgment, and separation? Nikos Kazantzakis, the author of Zorba the Greek, wrote: Since we cannot change reality, let us change the eyes which see reality. Mission helps me to find my soft eyes. The priest at San Pablo Apostol, Padre Jean Nephtaly Desire, is wise. He did not immediately Padre Nephtaly put us to work. Instead, since this was our first visit to San Pablo Apostol, he turned our work mission into an exploration and
work mission meaning he took time to show us his town, the people, and Jimani s deep hunger. But Padre Nephtaly and the people of San Pablo Apostol showed us something more -- a deep, loving hospitality of total acceptance. Rarely have I felt such unconditional love such agape. In the presence of their joy and spirit, I know I found, and I suspect that others did as well, my deep gladness in being Altagracia laughing in Jimani. Laughing with Padre, with the church women, with the young Haitian men, with the children and our new friends on the mission team was a blessing. If I could find the words to describe this experience, people in our diocese would be clamoring to join a mission team. The word love, often trivialized in our culture, is no longer strong enough to express the depth and breadth of the joy I felt on this mission. Perhaps a quotation from Kazantzakis Saint Francis can describe it: When an almond tree became covered with blossoms in the heart of winter, all the trees around it began to jeer. What vanity, they screamed, what insolence! Just think, it believes it can bring spring in this way! The flowers of the almond tree blushed for shame. Forgive me, my sisters, said the tree. I swear I did not want to blossom, but suddenly I felt a warm springtime breeze in my heart. the sanctuary and working on some homes in the community. When we Type A Americans were let loose, it was as if we shot out of the starting gate at the Kentucky Derby. People began grabbing for scrapers, rollers, and brushes and were all ready to go without a strategy for tackling the room. We had a great team, and leadership flowed through the group as needed. Someone organized the tools, someone started suggesting we needed water for paint brushes and rags, and another noticed that the floor was covered in dropped paint and needed scraping. A few others determined the worst walls to do first in case we couldn t get all the painting finished. In hindsight, I chuckle at that. We should have known to trust in God, if not ourselves. We finished in a day and a half! Of course language problems arose. At first we understood that Padre wanted us to fix a broken sink in a parishioner s kitchen. After two more discussions, we realized that the steeple shape Padre kept making with his hands was a roof. And instead of sink, he was saying zinc for the metal sheets that go on the roof. So we moved from prospective plumbers to roofers! Flexibility is always a good trait for Connections across cultures Scraping, painting and cleaning the sanctuary a mission team. And God always provides: several of our team members knew how to build a new roof! This was miraculous: when we left home, we thought we were going to put ceiling fans in the school. Here is my last Nikos Kazantzakis quotation, again from Zorba the Greek: God changes his appearance every second. Blessed is the man who can recognize him in all his disguises. Below are a few of God s disguises I saw. Seeing God in the faces of the people I met gladdened my heart and instilled a deep longing to return to Jimani on the next diocesan-wide mission trip. The celebration of life, the hospitality to the stranger (our team), and the glorious celebration and praise of God that I witnessed in the Dominican people remind me of a prayer in the New Zealand Book of Common Prayer: Holy One, Holy and Eternal, Awesome, exciting and delightful in your holiness; Make us pure in heart to see you; Make us merciful to receive your kindness, And to share our love with all your human family; Then will your name be hallowed on earth as in heaven. And if you visit the DR, bang the drums and tambourines loudly and make a great noise unto God! Amen. Carol Milam Finally, on Tuesday Padre gave us work to do scraping and painting Additional photographs from the mission trip appear on following pages.
Back row: Rev. David Feyrer, Ed Strapp, George Moye, Susan Dickerson, Rev. Dave Davis. Middle Row: Mike Bliss, Mary Gaylord, Beckwith Gaylord, Sandy Johnson, Carol Milam Front Row: Rev. Kevin Johnson, Rev. Pam Stringer, Gary Kimmel, Tom Archie, Jeanne Rick Kneeling: Padre Nephtaly, Frank Ogden On Sunday we attended the Episcopal Diocese of the Dominican Republic s Celebration Mass for Missions, a part of their conference on missions with churches from North America. A magnificent school drum corps dressed in colorful uniforms waving flags while marching smartly to a drum beat preceded the Dominican and American priests and the Bishop. The congregation of 2,000 sang Spanish Gospel songs along with small choirs. The joy and praise to God for all his blessings was powerful in that wonderful service. One of our team members asked afterwards, Don t you feel cheated by every other church service you have ever attended? We Episcopalians are sometimes called the frozen chosen, but there is nothing frozen about the chosen in the Dominican Republic. We were all grateful that our plans had been altered to include this service. This was the beginning of finding our deep gladness. Jimani s deep hunger Padre would like them to have a new home. Padre envisions a future playground with basketball court where school children can play and stay healthy.
Scraping, painting and cleaning the sanctuary Gary finding KiKi at the orphanage Celebrating Mary Gaylord s birthday Sharing our bounty: church donations of children s clothing, medical supplies, and school supplies Brotherly love School children at Colegio Episcopal Prof. Laura Morrow
Finding our inner child Listening to a lonely child The makers of our daily bread Sharing our cameras Our last sunset