As I reflect on the Mission Team

from the Episcopal Diocese of East

Carolina’s week at San Pablo Apos-

tol in Jimani, Dominican Republic,

Frederick Buechner’s definition of

vocation comes to mind: “The

place God calls you to is the place

where your deep gladness and the

world’s deep hunger meet.”

When sixteen members from seven

different Episcopal churches (Holy

Trinity Episcopal, Hampstead;

Church of the Servant, Episcopal,

Wilmington; St. Peter’s Episcopal,

Washington; St. Francis Episcopal,

Goldsboro; Church of the Good

Shepherd, Wilmington; St. James

the Fisherman, Shallotte; and All

Saints Episcopal, Southern Shores)

met in Raleigh on April 12 to begin

our travels to

Jimani, we

were strangers

on the road

together. But

over the course

of the week, we

slowed down

to “island

time” and be-

came compan-

ions in Christ, finding joy in each

other and in the people of Jimani.

A seven-hour bus trip out of Santo

Domingo took us to Jimani, border-

ing Haiti, which is in the poorest

area of the Dominican Republic

next door to the poorest country in

the Western Hemisphere. Many

Haitian immigrants fill the city.

Work is scarce. Hiding from immi-

gration officials is common. When

we visited the marketplace at the

border, some saw commerce and

the opportunity for people to make

a living, while others saw despair

and trash pollution.

Trash and the border provided fod-

der for introspection about the eyes

with which I view that which is

different.

Do I look

with the

“soft eyes”

of Christ’s

compassion

and connec-

tion, or do I

look with

the “hard

eyes” of

privilege, judgment, and separa-

tion? Nikos Kazantzakis, the

author of Zorba the Greek, wrote:

“Since we cannot change reality, let

us change the eyes which see real-

ity.” Mission helps me to find my

“soft eyes.”

The priest at

San Pablo

Apostol,

Padre Jean

Nephtaly

Desire, is

wise. He

did not im-

mediately

put us to work. Instead, since this

was our first visit to San Pablo

Apostol, he turned our “work mis-

sion” into “an exploration and

Reflections on Diocesan Mission

to San Pablo Apostol,

Jimani, Dominican Republic

April 12-20, 2013 Our first sunrise

Commerce at the border

Picking up trash

Padre Nephtaly

work mission”—meaning he took

time to show us his town, the peo-

ple, and Jimani’s “deep hunger.”

But Padre Nephtaly and the people

of San Pablo Apostol showed us

something more -- a deep, loving

hospitality of total

acceptance. Rarely

have I felt such un-

conditional love—

such agape. In the

presence of their joy

and spirit, I know I

found, and I suspect

that others did as

well, my “deep

gladness” in being

in Jimani. Laughing

with Padre, with

the church women, with the young

Haitian men, with the children and

our new friends on the mission

team was a blessing.

If I could find the

words to describe this

experience, people in

our diocese would be

clamoring to join a

mission team. The

word “love,” often

trivialized in our cul-

ture, is no longer strong enough to

express the depth and breadth of

the joy I felt on this mission. Per-

haps a quotation from Kazantzakis’

Saint Francis can describe it:

When an almond tree became covered

with blossoms in the heart of winter,

all the trees around it began to jeer.

“What vanity,” they screamed, “what

insolence! Just think, it believes it can

bring spring in this way!” The flowers

of the almond tree blushed for shame.

“Forgive me, my sisters,” said the tree.

“I swear I did not want to blossom, but

suddenly I felt a warm springtime

breeze in my heart.”

Finally, on Tuesday Padre gave us

work to do—scraping and painting

the sanctuary and working

on some homes in the com-

munity. When we Type A

Americans were let loose,

it was as if we shot out of

the starting gate at the

Kentucky Derby. People

began grabbing for scrap-

ers, rollers, and brushes

and were all ready to go

without a strategy for tack-

ling the room. We had a

great team, and leadership

flowed through the group

as needed. Someone organized the

tools, someone started suggesting

we needed water for paint brushes

and rags, and another noticed that

the floor was covered in dropped

paint and needed scraping. A few

others determined the worst walls

to do first in case we couldn’t get

all the painting finished. In hind-

sight, I chuckle at that. We should

have known to trust

in God, if not our-

selves. We finished

in a day and a half!

Of course language

problems arose. At

first we understood

that Padre wanted us

to fix a broken sink in a parish-

ioner’s kitchen. After two more

discussions, we realized that the

steeple shape Padre kept making

with his hands was a roof. And

instead of “sink”, he was saying

“zinc” for the metal sheets that go

on the roof. So we moved from

prospective plumbers to roofers!

Flexibility is always a good trait for

a mission team. And

God always provides:

several of our team

members knew how to

build a new roof! This

was miraculous: when

we left home, we

thought we were going

to put ceiling fans in the

school.

Here is my last Nikos

Kazantzakis quotation,

again from Zorba the

Greek: “God changes his appear-

ance every second. Blessed is the

man who can recognize him in all

his disguises.” Below are a few of

God’s disguises I saw.

Seeing God in the faces of the peo-

ple I met gladdened my heart and

instilled a deep longing to return to

Jimani on the next diocesan-wide

mission trip. The celebration of

life, the hospitality to the stranger

(our team), and the glorious cele-

bration and praise of God that I

witnessed in the Dominican people

remind me of a prayer in the New

Zealand Book of Common Prayer:

Holy One, Holy and Eternal,

Awesome, exciting and delightful in

your holiness;

Make us pure in heart to see you;

Make us merciful to receive your

kindness,

And to share our love with all your

human family;

Then will your name be hallowed on

earth as in heaven.

And if you visit the DR, bang the

drums and tambourines loudly

and make a great noise unto God!

Amen.

Carol Milam

Altagracia laughing

Scraping, painting and cleaning the sanctuary

Connections across cultures

Additional photographs from the mission trip appear on following pages.

Back row: Rev. David Feyrer, Ed Strapp, George Moye, Susan Dickerson, Rev. Dave Davis. Middle Row: Mike Bliss, Mary Gaylord, Beckwith Gaylord, Sandy Johnson, Carol Milam

Front Row: Rev. Kevin Johnson, Rev. Pam Stringer, Gary Kimmel, Tom Archie, Jeanne Rick

Kneeling: Padre Nephtaly, Frank Ogden

On Sunday we attended the Episcopal Diocese of the Dominican Republic’s Celebration Mass for Missions, a part of their conference on missions with churches from North America. A magnificent school drum corps dressed in colorful uniforms waving flags while marching smartly to a drum beat preceded the Dominican and American priests and the Bishop.

The congregation of 2,000 sang Spanish “Gospel songs” along with small choirs. The joy and praise to God for all his blessings was powerful in that wonderful service. One of our team members asked afterwards, “Don’t you feel cheated by every other church service you have ever attended?” We Episcopalians are sometimes called “the frozen chosen,” but there is nothing frozen about the chosen in the Dominican Republic. We were all grateful that our plans had been altered to include this ser-vice. This was the beginning of finding our “deep gladness.”

Jimani’s “deep hunger” –Padre would like them to have a new home.

Padre envisions a future playground with basketball court where school children can play and stay healthy.

Sharing our bounty: church dona-tions of children’s clothing, medical supplies, and school supplies

Scraping, painting and cleaning the sanctuary

Gary finding KiKi at the orphanage

School children at Colegio Episcopal Prof. Laura Morrow Brotherly love

Celebrating Mary Gaylord’s birthday

Listening to a lonely child Finding our inner child

The makers of our daily bread

Our last sunset

Sharing our cameras