Clean the Sacred Spaces

Being in Kolkata has been a whirlwind of emotions. I am not only fulfilling a lifelong dream, but also coming at a time of critical discoveries in my life. I am coming to terms with what the next season holds. Coming to terms with the little girl who dreamt of Mother Teresa all those years ago, learning that she held the future all along. I walk around with joy on my face and a lump in my throat, constantly overwhelmed with paradoxical emotions. 

When those emotions become to much, I go to Mother Teresa's tomb. I cry and I pray and I learn. Her tomb is the ultimate sacred space, simultaneously exposing and healing wounds. 

Today as a few of us left mass a nun asked if we would come help her clean out the room where the tomb is. She closed the door and we began- sweeping the floors, cleaning the windows, wiping down the tomb. 

In that moment it became painfully clear to me what the next season will be- it will be a time of cleaning the sacred spaces. Doing work that is not in slums or crowds, but behind closed doors. A time to stop producing and creating, but instead gently finding order among chaos. It will be lowly, dirty and difficult- but through it all things will be made new. 

Three Crying Babies

Right now I am working with Mother Teresa's Missionaries of Charity in Kolkata. In the afternoons I am in a home for severely handicapped children who are orphans. 

These children are the epitome of beauty and authenticity. They have no concept of hiding emotions or living anywhere but the present. When I hold them and smile they smile back with all of the joy their bodies can contain. Some of them can't contain it in their bodies, and they begin to shake and shriek in excitement of the moment. 

But then I have to walk away, to change another diaper or feed another child. That's when they begin to grieve. Once again they are overcome with the emotion of the present. Those who can't move weep, those who can't cry convulse. 

I spend these hours trying to balance bringing love with the pain they inevitably feel when I walk away. 

On one of those afternoons I was struggling to balance two baby boys. Each of them would cry if I put them down and calm down once they were held. I spent some time trying to go back and forth from holding one to the other. Until I finally managed to cradle one in my left arm and the other in my right. As soon as I had soothed them both, another child in front of me began to cry. 

It took everything in me to contain my tears until I made it home. Because in this moment something I have held all my life was made clear. 

I have always felt like I was made to sit in suffering, share the burden, and alleviate it with love. But there is so much suffering in this world that I cannot hold one thing without letting another go. I want a cause to give my life to, yet I am drawn to all of the causes. I feel it all so deeply that I can't manage to hold on to any one thing. I get caught in this cycle of pouring myself out until I am so empty that I have nothing left to give.... 

So what do I do? 

Sometimes I get angry at God, I curse the universe for exposing me to suffering that I feel so deeply but cannot resolve. 

Sometimes I get angry at others, I resent them for being able to choose apathy when I am being torn apart with empathy. 

Sometimes I get angry at myself, I lie and tell myself there's no point in carrying on if I can't carry it all. 

But being here in the presence of Mother Teresa's work I am realizing that there must be another option. I think I've been drawn to her all my life because this is the lesson I must learn time and time again- that all we can do is be love and be present. The beauty of Mother Teresa's life was that she always focused on the small things, on the one person in front of her. When she sat with a leper, she gave all of her energy to that leper in that moment. She did the same with the Pope, with children, with the dying, with her sisters. Whether she was in places of joy or suffering, prestige or lowliness, honor or humility- she was always there fully. She didn't resent others or herself for being what they were. She didn't agonize over which struggle was hers to engage with. Instead she simply sat so fully in the presence of God and others that eventually she became a mirror reflecting Christ back to each person she sat with. 

Maybe I don't have to learn how to hold three babies at once. Maybe I can hold one child with all the love I have to give, and for that moment that will be enough. 

Belonging To A Tribe

Right now I'm in the Northeastern mountains of India. We are staying with tribal people called Rongmei. We climb through mountains to meet families and churches, we eat with our hands and follow other customs. Honestly it's the cliche "missionary experience" I always imagined as a child. And it's wonderful. The culture is full of rich and historic meaning, everywhere you turn there is new beauty in both the people and the landscapes. 

Hearing their stories and living their way of life has me thinking a lot about belonging and tribes. I hear a lot of authors and speakers from the States talk about "finding your tribe" or "belonging to a tribe". This beautiful practice of doing life with people who can understand where you've come from and where you're going, people you're safe with. 

I see so much power behind this. Standing alongside brothers and sisters, looking back at all you have overcome and learning through generations. Being with people where you have a sense of belonging and purpose, mantras and chants and ways of living. So many great movements begin with a tribe saying they collectively choose to live a better way. 

But with that I also see the danger of tribal thinking. I see how some are excluded because they don't follow the tribes way of doing or seeing things. I see how tribes become echo chambers in which we all become pleased with the uniformity of our war cries. 

It seems like tribal culture can give life to those who have lived under oppression, it is a foothold to reach up and find your worth as collective souls. But when that same tribe becomes those in in power rather than the oppressed, tribalism becomes a weapon of destruction. 

I'm not talking specifically about this tribe in India, I'm talking about humanity. Throughout history, so many religions, nations, and people groups have moved from belonging to each other in times of oppression to using their collective power to oppress others. Look at America-- what once was a tribe of misfits seeking new opportunity and justice is now seen around the world as a war-hungry nation of greed and ignorance. Or Christianity-- what began as followers of radical inclusion and love without limits is now seen as people with picket signs and megaphones excluding those of various gender/sexual identities and ethnic backgrounds. 

As I reflect on belonging and finding a place in the world, I'm asking myself- Do I want to belong to a tribe? And if so, what tribe? Emergent Christianity? Monasticism? Missionary life? Secular humanism and science? I love all of these things, yet claiming any one as my home tribe feels like a rejection of the others. 

Spiritual leaders I love speak about being able to "transcend and include". How do we transcend the exclusion of tribalism while including the richness of shared histories and sense of belonging? 

I don't have a grand eloquent closing for this post, so I leave you all with a paraphrased passage of Advent that I've been contemplating recently- 

Isaiah 2:1-5

It shall come to pass that the mountain of God will be established above all mountains and hills, and all nations shall flow to it. 

Many peoples shall come and say, "Come, let us go to the mountain of God. Let us learn God's ways and walk God's paths." 

For out of Zion shall go forth the law and the Word from Jerusalem. 

Disputes among many nations shall be settled. 

And they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore. 

O house of Jacob, come let us walk in the light of the Lord. 

May those of us from all tribes trade our weapons of war for tools of new life.