View as Webpage

As I think back on those days at the Mission it is not only our time with the Dine՜, but also the other worldliness of the landscape that truly resonates. The images of immense rock formations and the rise and fall of the bluff high above our mission evokes a vision of flowing lava that froze into rock, with unexpected pockets, holes and drop offs. I have researched how the land came to be and am out of my depth in geological terms; but our early morning runs left me in awe of all that God has created. It was on one of these runs across the bluff, jumping and skipping over holes and drop offs that a couple of the kids and I came upon two dogs, silently looking up from one of these large pot holes six to ten feet below us.

They were surrounded by the debris of their chase: two foxes whose only remains were bones and fur. The smell let us know that this was not a recent event, and as we looked into their eyes it was clear that they were badly dehydrated. They could hide in the shade as the sun came up over the bluff but there were certainly periods of the day when they had no coverage. We immediately called our host vicar Joe, who said he guessed by our description that these dogs were his neighbors' shepherds. We expressed shock at their silence, and he said a good sheep dog only makes noise when his/her flock is in danger. He told us that he would contact the neighbor and that he would rescue his dogs.

We finished our run, cleaned up and came to morning prayer eager to find out the rescue plan. Joe told us that the nephew would be coming after he got off work around one pm to retrieve the dogs. The kids were not satisfied with this plan, but set to work around the mission patiently awaiting the approach of the nephew. By lunchtime, with our orchard work complete and no sign of the nephew, they begged to at least go back up on the bluff and offer the dogs water. We settled on a post lunch outing where we would take everyone up onto the bluff to see the magnitude of the rock formations and the views, and to offer the dogs water.

As we made our ascent one leader with a fear of heights became increasingly agitated. She was committed to facing her fears, and to doing it with the kids watching her desire to overcome and with their physical and emotional support as well. By this point in the trip there had been many vulnerable moments between prayer partners, between leaders and kids, with kids often expressing their anxiety, fears, and hopes.  This is a big part of a work trip; barriers are broken down and a community of love and support is developed authentically and deeply. But I think this level of reverse support was pretty unprecedented. The leader made it up the 1000 (or so) ft climb. Between tears, and dry heaves, she was blown away by what she had done, and by what she was seeing. The kids cheered for her and genuinely marveled at her bravery. It was quite a moment.

But that was just the beginning of our adventure on the bluff. We had to retrace our steps to find the pups, which we did within 20 minutes of spectacular climbs, descents and runs over amazing rock outcroppings with our little group of eight. The dogs were still there, hiding from the rising sun. One of the boys jumped into the pit and we handed the water and pale down. The dogs were still silent and shy; but eventually they made their way over to the water. The kids were adamant that we not leave these dogs, and I was unsure how we could approach them as they seemed so skittish. They were clearly in distress, and we now knew that they had been missing for days. We called the vicar again and asked, if they warmed to us, would it be ok if we tried to get them out. He thought it would be, he knew the dogs, and they were friendly. So very slowly we tried to get them comfortable with us, and the bolder one eventually let us lift him out, leaking urine as he scrambled up the ledge. Eventually we got the second one out and he joined his partner as they took off across the bluff, intent no doubt, on heading home to find food and their flock.

On so many levels this was something that would never have happened on the Main Line. Open and dangerous landscapes where sheep dogs could be lured away from their flock and lost forever? This was something of biblical proportions, and these kids believed that they were called at that moment to act. We could have looked the other way, as the priest and the levite did in the parable of the Good Samaritan. It would probably have been more responsible for me as their leader to take the cautious path and wait for the nephew. But these kids knew with such conviction that it was their duty to make sure these dogs survive. They could not sit idly by and let another take the responsibility that they believed God had given them.

We live in interesting times in terms of duty and honor. Often we teach our kids to be risk averse, to take care of themselves and to ensure their own futures. We teach them to stay in their own lanes. But how does that translate to building a true community? How do we see and hear each other if we have blinders on and earplugs in to protect us? In Utah everything about our home lives was stripped away and we were able to see and hear what was going on around us. In fact the shocking nature of it all truly woke us up to see and hear everything! I would argue that Jesus doesn't want us to live in a vacuum. He wants us to truly see, hear and love each other. He wants us to take risks for one another; to accompany and cheer for the leader who is afraid to climb the mountain, and to rescue any of God’s creatures who are in danger. Not just when we are out of our routine and on a designated “mission” trip, but all of the time. This is counter-cultural; Jesus and the Jesus Way are counter-cultural. It is just as shocking today as it was in the first century, and demands a trust in God that many of us cannot always accept.  It means not putting ourselves first in a world that teaches us to put ourselves first, today as it did over 2000 years ago. What would it look like if we really saw people and really listened, all while putting our own thoughts and needs away for a minute? Maybe that is what building the Kingdom looks like, and maybe this is what Jesus was pointing us towards.