By the Rev. Dr. Cathy L Deats
Rector of St. James' Episcopal Church, Hackettstown, New Jersey
Jesus spoke to them this parable: "The kingdom of God is like a journey taken by some disciples. They had listened to their master's teaching, and decided to go on a journey to practice what they had heard. One warm summer day, they got into a minivan in Hackettstown, New Jersey. They had packed some food for the journey and some tools for their work. It was a long journey, and on the way they wondered what they were getting into and why they had agreed to go far from home to a strange country to help some people they did not know. As they traveled, they heard new accents and saw new scenery. They enjoyed each other's company as they never had before, and they enjoyed the company of some other disciples on the same road. When they arrived in St. Paul, Virginia, they were weary and apprehensive. But their hosts had prepared dinner for them to eat and beds for them to sleep in. They also reassured the disciples, saying to them, 'Fear not.'
But when the disciples saw the work they were expected to do, they were not only worried, but also puzzled. 'Master,' they said, 'there is so much to do in so little time. And we do not have the materials we need now. Also, we do not know how to do the jobs you have given us to do!' The master said, 'You have everything you need. You only need to begin, and have faith.'
The disciples, still unbelieving, nevertheless began to work. There came among them disciples from the foreign land who taught them what they needed to know. The materials they needed were supplied when they needed them. Although some work was left to do when it was time for them to leave, they heard that other disciples were arriving the next day to continue the work. The most astonishing thing of all, however, was the people they were sent to help. These people appeared to be poor, but in fact were rich in spirit and graciousness. Some appeared to be "behind the times," and yet had more wisdom than the disciples who came to help did. The disciples had gone to the far country to give, and had received as well.
The ones who have ears, let them hear."
A parable is a story of truth, a story of common things, a story which, although it may not have a lesson in it, can teach us something. This parable is about a real experience. Its ending is unexpected. For those of us who lived this parable, it is also, like other parables, hard to explain.
Let me tell you a little bit about the trip St. James' took to an Appalachian mountain of amazing beauty, physical poverty and our encounter with Jesus. We climbed in our minivan full of promise and apprehension and excitement and some reluctance. We met another minivan from St. Paul's Church in Englewood and eleven of us caravaned our way south. We made pit stops and ate together and stayed overnight in a motel. Upon our arrival at Grace House on the Mountain, we met thirty other people and formed teams to do work at three work sites chosen for their need for safe, warm, and dry shelter, as well as spiritual comfort.
One team was assigned to an AME Zion church in a town about 10 miles away. The church has six to thirteen members and was desperately in need of a roof, as well as other repairs. The other two of our work teams were assigned to neighboring trailers -- in one lived a retired coal miner and his wife, and in the other their daughter, a single mom, and her 17-year-old son. Both properties needed much work: vinyl siding, roof sealing, porch fixing, painting, and other repairs.
The couple who lived in the first trailer had moved there from a house not far from it. The house, in which they had raised their family, was structurally unsound and It beyond repair. Mrs. Hannon (we will call her) missed her gorgeous flowerbeds. One of the jobs we did was to create some beds around the trailer so that she could transplant of her flowering treasures to her new home. She was caring for her husband, who had had a heart attack the week before we arrived, and who also suffered from lung disease brought on by his twenty years in the mines. Their daughter, who lives in a trailer behind her parents with her son, has a job which supports them but provids for no extras. The young people on our work crew were successful in getting her son to come out of the house, where he usually spent most of his time in his room playing video games and writing stories. He slowly warmed up to them, and began to eat lunch with us and hang with the kids to talk about all manner of things teenagers need to talk to each other about.
The physical work was hard. We were applying vinyl siding over the old aluminum siding on two 35-foot trailers. It was more than 90 degrees outside. Some of the siding had peeled back, some was missing, and some which had buckled hid giant wasp nests. At some points, we doubted the work could be done. But our crew chief was right; "the work is second." The work is second to the relationships being formed between us and between us and the families. Mr. Hannon's only wish as he was recovering from his hospitalization, was to be outside helping us. Our able handyman, "Billy" [up north we would describe him as a "consultant"] knew his way around all manner of work, from siding around an inexact corner (and I use the term loosely) to getting rid of wasps without being stung. One remedy involved gasoline and a match; that is enough said about that.
Two local women joined the EAM staff and staff volunteer in cooking the most delicious meals you could imagine -- barbecued chicken and mashed potatoes, ham and soup beans and cole slaw, blackberry dumplings and all kinds of pie. And what a stunning sight it was to see our young people and others from Chicago and Baltimore and Lynchburg working together and learning together and having fun together in a place where there was no TV or computer or video games or movies to entertain in the evening. They talked or played board games or volleyball, took walks and considered together their work and their lives and that place. I could not help but think we were truly in the kingdom of God.
When Jesus' disciples long ago asked him to feed the multitudes, he said to them, "You find them something to eat." And they did. Then they offered it to Jesus to bless and it was enough. It was more than enough.
This summer we discovered that what we brought to Appalachia was enough. Being willing to work was enough. It was not necessary to be knowledgeable about vinyl siding or roof shingles. Being a good listener was enough; there was an isolated teenage boy in need of someone to listen. Wanting to do a good job was enough; it made us willing to work with people we may not have chosen as team members.
I was not present with the disciples at the "miracle" of the feeding of the thousands with five loaves and two fish. I was present at the miracle of fourteen people sharing a bunkhouse (one shower, one sink, one toilet), when they all arrive from work each day at the same time, sweaty and dirty and tired. I was present at the miracle of people unknown to each other on Sunday emerging at the end of that week changed by each other, some to be lifelong friends. The most beautiful miracle of all, however, was that a teenage boy shared his poetry with us foreigners, and we found we spoke the same language.
Our skill, our talent, our money, our listening ear, our mathematical skill, or simply our willingness to be the hands and feet, the eyes and ears, the voice and the embracing arms of God -- everything -- offered to Jesus is blessed and sanctified and transformed. And in the process of the offering, we are liable to find ourselves in the kingdom of God.
By Joanne O'Neill
Being of a more contemplative spirituality and solitary nature, the continuing state and motion and presence of so many people (particularly in the bunk house) was a bit disconcerting at time. Yet I wasn't surprised. I had a feeling that Grace House would take me beyond my comfort zone. After all, that's how we grow as people and as Christians. And that's what I had hoped I would receive from the experience.
I did things I never thought of doing - learning to hammer, drive a screw, "tin-snip" - all small parts of the job of putting siding on a trailer. I learned to be part of a team - I hold down the "J-strip" while you snip.. I measure, you cut. I learned to be a part of a continuing process - what our group did not finish, the group next week would. I had a taste of serving, not starring, going around the site pouring water for other workers and cleaning up after lunch. Seeing what needed to be done, even in the kitchen at night, and doing it. Learning to be part of a whole - that was one of the gifts I received from Grace House on the Mountain.
Another gift was being able to experience an Episcopal circle beyond my own congregation. This was particularly meaningful for me since I was received into the Episcopal Communion in June. I truly liked what I saw, and I know that being "received" and participating in the work camp experience is just the beginning for me.
Finally but foremost was coming to know the people and beauty of Appalachia. I continue to hold in my heart each and everyone I met.
