Mud and Stars

I just finished my paper (finally!) for a pastoral care course I took at Wesley this past semester. I wrote about the dynamics of self, other, and God in a L'Arche Community, specifically about downward mobility and vocation being revealed in the context of a relationship with people with disabilities, specifically with Walton and Debora. Care-giving actions become embodied and care-giving becomes more a way of being, moving beyond ritual into sacrament, and in turn how these sacramental relationships symbolize the covenanted relationship between God and humanity. I explored themes of mutuality in care-giving, both for the body and the soul, though not as disparate entities and differentiated between self-actualization and vocation. While it is a semantic difference, they illuminate the role of the other, community, and God as vital to the realization of one's vocation. I posit that vocation can only be discovered in, and only exists in, and in a sense is relationship. This specific kind of relationship with Walton or Debora calls us to become enjoined to the other and it is in this faithfulness that find the other to not just be someone to derive benefits from for self-actualization, but that our very self is caught up in theirs, to be sure I draw on and quote Freddy Buechner. So vocation is a journey in which the other continues with you (not just for their sake but for your own) while self-actualization perhaps can be seen as discarding the relationships once they have given you what you desired. Essentially, faithfulness is the difference even though it might be rather abstract at times for those who move on to new phases of life, but I guess vocation says I go with.
While at times I have enjoyed writing the paper, mostly for the way in which it has helped me to make sense of my experience and mourn my leaving L'Arche, I find great limits to the constructs and academic feel of it all. The beauty of L'Arche is simplicity (or at least I would like to think so during 2 hour discussions about the consistency of oatmeal). And at times I found the paper to be a way of complicating beautiful simplicity. I think I am coming back to a place in which I find value in the "intellectualizing" of L'Arche as long as it leads us back to the simplicity. The knock on most PTS grads is that they do ministry more with their heads than their hearts, more in thoughts than acts of love, more in methods than presence. Luckily, Walton won't let me do that. I came across another quote by Jean Vanier recently (thanks to Heather). He says, “God and universal truth are not in the sky and the stars, nor in theories, ideologies and ideals. They are hidden in actual people, in flesh, mud and matter.”
I am going to Regional Gathering with L'Arche tomorrow, which promises to be an adventure. Then I am back in DC for a few days before going home for a week. Then Greek.

Leaving L'Arche and Loving

Back in DC for a bit. June 5th was my last day in L'Arche. I've felt as though it was my time to journey onward for a variety of reasons, but I am nonetheless heart-broken to leave. While L'Arche helped me to grow in responsibility, in being more confident in my vocation both practically and big-picture, and in trying to transcend some of my well-educated, transient middle-upper class white male tendencies, the greatest gift L'Arche has given me is my humanity. There is so much that I have been able to receive and reclaim in this past year through, acts, words, and silence. And at the heart of all of this has been Walton Schofield. I was a little afraid when I first learned I would accompany him b/c he speaks infrequently (except for recycled though enlivened tales from 40-something years ago when he was in Cuba) and can seem disinterested in the world around him. But my apprehension quickly melted away as I spent hours in the hospital with this very tender man shortly after my arrival. Yesterday, when I visited for a bit, he scooted over in the hospital bed in his room so that I could share the bed with him and chat while he was supposed to be napping. However, this was only after he politely protested to the piano music that was playing in his room in favor of the cello cd. He asked, "y donde trabajas...en una casa?" "And where do you work...in a house?" I told him "Es que yo soy estudiante." "I am a student." He nodded knowingly and was happy to learn about my life beyond L'Arche. I had only told him once that I was going to be a student and that I wouldn't be living with him any more. This was two months ago, and when I did, he quickly averted his eyes and busy hands away from his blocks to zero in on my eyes, a rarity for Walton. He looked deeply and asked, "Por que?" "Why?" I don't remember how I answered or even if I did answer because I was so worried that my leaving would hurt this gentle, loving man. But yesterday after asking about what I do with my time these days, he informed me that the minister wanted him to put one of those big blue mail receptacles in the church. He decided he wanted to sit up and chat so I scooched over, and helped him sit up only to remember the attire that he sleeps in. He asked for his shorts, and I obliged. We talked more and before I left he kissed me on the cheek and I kissed him on the cheek. Jean Vanier says, "You see, the big thing for me is to love reality and not live in the imagination, not live in what could have been or what should have been or what can be, and somewhere, to love reality and then discover that God is present.” Walton brings me back to the present moment, to God in that moment, and to my true humanity.