Reflections on a "Mission" Trip

Don't just do something,
stand there.

A group of us stood in a circle at Snookies Ice Cream Shop in Des Moines, Iowa, slurping slurpies and lapping strawberry dipped vanilla soft serve when we were given a handout of stapled papers entitled, To Hell With Good Intentions. It was preparation for our senior high youth mission trip. I'm not partial to the word "mission," for all the loaded connotations. I like service trip, or do-gooder trip, or just trip. (Now you know where I'm headed with this post.) But for simplicity sakes, we call it a mission trip.

Our youth director handed out this article to the kids in preparation for their mission trip to Red Lake Indian Reservation, where they would travel and "serve" for a week. The article lays out all the cautions of volunteerism in another culture, another land, another place. I won't go into the article, but I've linked it here, so you can read it for yourself. I remember handing out that very same piece to people who would travel on international trips I used to organize in my former life. (They were educational trips, not "mission" trips. More about listening, not doing. But that is darn hard for those of us who are raised to make things happen.)

Three days after the ice cream shop gathering, my two teenagers boarded minivans along with a 10 or so other kids and two trusted adults. They headed north for adventure and to answer the call to help others. I'm told one van was silent in their own electronic devises. The other van was raucous in their group sings of One Direction songs. (British boy band famous for their song about being beautiful with a dominant drum beat.)

But helping others doesn't look the same to everyone, as they would find out. As it turns out, being a Christian doesn't look the same to everyone. From the outside, we might all look alike I suppose. From the inside, like with all groups, there are many MANY variations of belief and lifestyles.

Now, more than a week later from the sunny day at the ice cream shop, the trip is over and I've just spent about four hours listening to my two teens tell stories about their week. The trip wasn't what they expected it to be. (As always happens, right?) In summary, they were exposed to other pieties about sex, books, sexuality, homosexuality, investing in community, what it means to be a church, who is Jesus (did Jesus have a banned book list?),  joy, eating, poverty, and probably the biggest exposure. . .imposing one's values on others.

Breath that in. Or perhaps, go get yourself an ice cream cone and consider this with me.

My children (along with 12 or so others) just learned that other people who propose to be of the same religious faith as us -- are different. Really different.

My children learned that not everyone accepts everyone as a child of God, no strings attached.

My children learned that not everyone would march in a pride parade with their church.

My children learned that not everyone would allow books to be read, without scrutiny.

My children learned that not everyone approaches Christianity with an attitude of kindness, acceptance, and love.

My children leaned all these things, and more, with the careful guidance of awesome adults who could explain this to them; how hypocrisy works; how extremism forms; how contortion twists faith into conformity. How we are not superior or better, but how we look to grace and humility.

It took me so long to learn all these things, long into adulthood. And my kids learned it as teenagers, mediated by wise leaders to help them sort it all out. To me, that's the point of a so-called mission trip and I'm so grateful.

Thanks so much for coming over to my blog.

With love from yours truly,

Natural Born Bleeding Heart