Great Expectations

To My Most Amiable Readers,

When we left Chile for the States we had a host of great expectations. The church had passed completely into Chilean hands, and we were buoyant (the job of the missionary is to make their job unnecessary), thinking of all the extra time we would have to focus outwards; to our neighbors, friends, rowing youth, and the families in the mountains. We felt that we had contributed through the Holy Spirit's leading to the unity, cohesion, and organization of the local church, leaving behind an empowered national church, which we could stand with and invite our un-churched friends to, not to mention receive our spiritual refreshment and encouragement from.

I am currently reading Dicken's "Great Expectations". In it young Pip, a blacksmith's son, arises from his circumstances through the favor of a mysterious benefactor. I am watching as he grows to disdain the "commonness" of his former life and adapts his self image to his new "expectations". I am only half-way through, so if you know the ending, don't betray it.

We had great expectations. Roughly a week before we returned to Chile we were notified that the church had split. And this not neatly between two factions...but totally dissolved. We were at a complete loss. What had been expectation quickly turned to dread. We love every person involved in the church; we've cried and worshiped and laughed with them. Now they are fragmented, some claiming total innocence, some accusing others, some blind to their sins against others, some siding with this family or that, some walking in outright bitterness. Their accounts differ so widely that I feel as though I am constantly trying to make out who is lying. But to what use?

I am not up to this task. Pip, in my story, would have just received notice from his benefactress that henceforth he is summarily dropped from the will, all his education and instruction meant to carry him through his new genteel life was all for nothing, and rather a waste of time. Now he'll have to put his pansy hands through torture back at the forge...regaining his calluses one by one.

Our Chile team has counseled us to simply love each person involved and support them in any way needed; caring for the broken body piece by piece. This is hard to do when the ear starts slandering the eye, and the foot bids "outta my face" to the shoulder. I can't stand to see people I love tearing each other apart; especially in flowery spiritual ways: "So and so's such a lovely, wonderful person, BUT......"

The oddity of it all is having my neighbors ask how the church is doing. Uh.....

What a excellent witness.

Please pray for the broken body here; pray for reconciliation, forgiveness, and redemption.

Your Most Tired,
Sarah