on staying in the unchanged

an advent reflection from Tim in Manila

Reflections and Restlessness

Earlier this year, I met with a group of fellow students from Asian Theological Seminary who had been interning with our Manila Team and partner organization, The Lilok Foundation. We were debriefing the various community exposures and involvements they had participated in over the past few weeks when a feeling of “well, what now?” began to inch its way through our discussion. Having immersed themselves in spaces with our friends in Barangay Holy Spirit-Commonwealth without much of an agenda or direction, it was apparent that some of them were feeling the itch to do something – a restlessness perhaps particular to those accustomed to privileges of exercising agency and accomplishment.

I could certainly empathize with their discomfort, as I’ve felt my fair share of insecurities over how much I’ve actually “done” (or not done) in my 4 years with Servants here in Manila. For all that we might say in comparing the acts of doing and being as incarnational ministers, I’ll be the first to confess that the allure of enacting change offers a satisfaction that simply being in the “unchanged” does not.

Incarnation or Impact?

In listening to their growing passivity with being and apparent proclivities toward doing, I asked: will we stay even if we can’t change anything? In catching glimpses of life on the margins and all the things we want to do something about, I challenged our group to consider the value of choosing to stay in these spaces even if they don’t change. Were we there to satisfy our middle-class urges of helping and saving or did we come to share our solidarity and presence that trends of upward-mobility and resumé-building would rather have us keep to ourselves?

Touching on the principle of incarnation, I reflected on how Christ’s own incarnation didn’t change much of anything, at least according to the sort of standards that usually measure our doings. The world He entered through a quiet birth in a stable was just as broken and unchanged as the one He left after exiting an empty tomb. Even after 2,000 years of longing for otherwise, the poor have in fact continued to stay with us – it is only their names and faces that change. The vilified Palestinian has replaced the stigmatized Samaritan in the eyes of the religious elite while the simple teaching to love them continues to meet exception and excuse.

a Love that Stays

Having spent the second half of my twenties living and serving the same working-class community, I want to change things for my neighbors just as much as anyone. I long to witness the transformation of all that is unjust and unacceptable for them. And yet, as I continue on in my “being” here, I’ve come to believe that choosing to stay in the unchanged can orient us to deeper longings for transformation that bring us closer to the heart of God than our efforts of doing could ever carry us. If our faith does in fact claim this nonsensical mystery that the One with infinite capacities to “do” chose not to end all suffering but to instead incarnate within it and be with the suffering, then perhaps there is gospel in our decisions to stay, even when leaving sounds like better news.

It’s this act of staying that I believe is the sort of other-worldliness that Jesus invites us to as He continues to remain in all our unchanged places. And so, in following Him there, perhaps we can also demonstrate this sort of divine love that this season of anticipation so reminds us of. A love that stays even when change has yet to arrive and pleads for its advent to finally come.

[we apologize for not getting this posted in December; yet Tim’s insights about being, doing, waiting and change are just as relevant today – Ed.]