Jean Vanier is a Catholic theologian and philosopher, but more importantly he founded a network of communities called L’Arche, which are communities scattered across the globe for people with developmental disabilities and those who take care of them. (Some of you may have heard of L’Arche because you know of Henri Nouwen, who lived in a L’Arche community). Through decades of theological reflection and living amongst the world’s poor, Vanier says:

 

 

Our commitment to Jesus should bring us closer to the poor.

 

(Not just in a charitable fashion, of course. For a great theological critique of Christian charity, there is a great book by Dr. Liz Theoharris, a PCUSA pastor, that explores the topic, Always with Us? What Jesus Really Said about the Poor.)

 

Our high school group has tried to heed this call.

 

 

We have developed a relationship with an orphanage in Mexico that cares for people with disabilities. (You can check it out by clicking here) We have been going there to work alongside their staff in caring for the orphans, and have been able to see the truth in Vanier’s words. Although there is a lot of work to do while we are there, our primary experience has been an increase in faith, love, and life.

 

 

We actually were there for Easter in 2018!

 

 

Being there on Easter was quite the paradox. Indeed, it is the paradox at the heart of our Christian worldview. We trust that through the resurrection of Jesus the new age has been opened up, the age where creation is being renewed and the power of evil and corruption has been undone. Yet, the new age overlaps with the old age, where death and brokenness still seem as real as ever.

 

We cared for people with broken bodies and praised the Jesus whose own broken body was renewed, in trust and hope that this would not only be the future for these beloved orphans, but also ours as well.

 

Archbishop Oscar Romero, who was martyred about forty years ago for his advocacy and empowering work among the poor, has a great word on this topic:

 

 

La Mision para los Ninos has a lot of cross to bear.

 

We get to participate for a handful of days every year, and we get a little peak into the cruciform lives of these volunteers who spend their days changing diapers and feeding adults with handicaps. It is tiring. But, oh the joy! In the stripped back life down on that little property in northwestern Mexico, joy abounds. It is intoxicating. In our weak moments, we might say that is what beckons us back year after year. Where there is a lot of cross to bear, there is much resurrection to experience.

 

On Easter, the day of cross and resurrection celebration, I experienced an otherworldly peace. Shalom, perhaps.

 

The leaders of the orphanage set up an Easter Egg hunt for the staff around the campus, so that left the Emmanuel group to take care of the orphans for the ten or twenty minutes while the staff was busy. We sat on the lawn with the orphans, held hands, laughed, wiped drool, and enjoyed one another. Tears of joy were shed. I suppose it doesn’t come across well over type, but there was a breakdown of the binary of volunteer and orphan, of abled and differently-abled.

 

We had an encounter with Jesus when we sought him in a community that has borne a lot of cross for their lifetime.

 

But, oh, the joy, the resurrection, down at La Mision, it is life-giving. Shalom is there in the cruciform community.