Saturday, June 1, 2002

The Bat Under the Refrigerator

Our migrant ministry in Sioux City was a small store front operation. The big church that sponsored us was up the hill behind us on the opposite side of the block. We often used the kitchen in the church basement and the adjoining recreation hall for events. The church itself was a grand English Gothic structure with a bell tower and a high vaulted nave and bats were an ongoing problem. All sorts of attempts were made to keep the bats out by putting screen wire over possible points of entry, but in a large old church it was nearly impossible to find all the places bats could get in and a few apparently could always get in through some very small places. They created a nuisance during services by swooping down over the congregation and the ushers kept a tennis racket and net handy just in case some one was able to knock one of them off.

The church had hired Irma Gomez as sexton and Irma also was my right arm, hand, eyes, mouth and principle adviser for our little congregation which we named "Los Milagritos del Norte" (The Little Miracles of the North). Between her very limited English and my classroom Spanish we managed to work together very well. When I was preaching in Spanish, it wasn't unusual for her to correct me, supplying a word or phrase that she knew better suited what I was trying to say and I was glad to let the Holy Spirit arbitrate whatever meaning ensued. I believed that what we were doing together was so much more important than exegetical precision. Besides, Irma's strong practical nature was an important amendment to my sometimes visionary idealism. I ran everything by her, but I failed to ask her about the bat.

The bat apparently had fallen behind the refrigerator in the kitchen and couldn't get out. Several of us could hear it squeak every so often even though we couldn't see it. I'm very soft hearted when it comes to distressed animals and as the days went by I worried that it might die of starvation or thirst. I started putting a small bowl of water down behind the refrigerator and propped a broom up beside it hoping that the bat might climb up the broom. I had learned that bats are unable to take off and fly from ground level, but need a ledge or something to drop from in order to take flight. The bat obviously had fallen to the floor behind the refrigerator and was unable to find anything to climb up in order to launch itself out of its predicament.

About this time the state diocesan convention took place and since our ministry was the first Hispanic ministry in the province, I was invited to present a workshop on how we got started and how we were doing. As I thought about my address, it occurred to me that the bat behind the refrigerator presented a sort of parable. I told the audience about the bat and how in the human community, none of us is able to launch ourselves directly into life without lots of assistance. From infancy into adulthood and to the end of our lives, help from others is essential for survival. Throughout life, we encounter times of need when we need extra or special assistance. The first European arrivals in North America survived those first winters in the wilderness only with the help of the indigenous people already here. New immigrants always have depended on the kindness and generosity of those already here and established to help them make the climb into American life and culture. That is what we were all about with our ESL classes, translating assistance, food pantry and other programs. This is the essence of the Christian faith. God understands our needy situation and reaches down to lift us up so we can find new life and hope.

The workshop was a great success. The large room was packed. Many priests and three bishops were present, including one from Scotland. Everyone was excited and hopeful for our new ministry and many people were touched by the little parable I told. We had been funded generously from both the diocese and the national Counsel of Bishops as well. Several people asked me for a copy of my address in order to include it in their church newsletters. When I got home, I happily related to Irma all that had transpired. She stared at me for several seconds and then broke out into laughter. So that was why she kept finding a bowl of water on the floor by the refrigerator. She couldn't imagine what was going on but there wasn't any bat back there. That squeak was a loose belt on the refrigerator motor.

Unhappily, our migrant ministry was short lived. The rector of the church who had envisioned the ministry and recruited me to direct it left for another position and in the interim, before another rector was called, the vestry decided not to continue the ministry. The ministry had been controversial from the start and since it was a local ministry of this one church, even though we had outside funding, there was no way to continue.

There were those who viewed us, like the bats, as unwelcome intruders and were unhappy about the social action component of the ministry. In the United States, the prevailing attitude is that people should be able to "pull themselves up by their own bootstraps" and many people have the opinion that people needing assistance are unworthy of help. It's useless to try to argue against this position because it is the result of an attitude of entitlement. It is a national replay of the parable of The Rich Man and Lazarus. (Luke 16:19-31) It is so easy for those who enjoy material comforts and well being to ignore or disdain the needs of the poor. How quickly they forget, if ever they knew, that all they have is due to the good fortune of being the right person in the right place at the right time and having the means, health and intelligence to take advantage of it. Those things count far more in prosperity than choices or insight.

Nothing done in love ever can be counted as loss. My spiritual adviser reminded me that God does not depend on individual programs or individual successes for the Holy Spirit to do its work. Success just isn't the point! Our efforts need be no bigger than the grain of mustard seed to grow into a great shrub and the miracle of the gospel is that God uses even our mistakes and failures to further the advance of His Kingdom, perhaps even an imaginary bat. There is no way to anticipate outcomes. What we do is so much more important than how we interpret the results when we act in love, hospitality, compassion and as stewards of life. Our fledgling ministry was an inspiration and impetus for other similar ministries that came later. Perhaps none of those will matter in themselves in the long run. What matters is what we do together, who we call our brother, sister, friend, the sharing of our lives, the gratitude we feel for everything we have and our willingness to give a hand up.