| My
friend said, “So, you don’t want to share the Good
News with us?” We were sitting together in her grass-roofed
hut in Dankali, a tiny village in Cameroon, and I had been trying
to explain to her why I could not preach in her church the next
day. I was technically a missionary, but my job was to teach
English as a second language. I had graduated from the University
of Kansas only nine months before then, I was twenty-two years
old, and I had no theological training besides what I had received
growing up at Reformation Lutheran Church in Wichita, Kansas.
Nevertheless, the church pastor at Dankali Lutheran had learned
I was visiting, and he had called on my hostess to invite me
to preach the next day.
I felt
there were legitimate obstacles to preaching in her church.
The church service was less than twenty-four hours away, and
I did not even know the texts. I would have to write and preach
my sermon in French, and I was nervous about preaching in a
foreign language. Moreover, someone would also have to translate
my French into Gbaya, the tribal language of the village. More
importantly, I was not sure that as a layperson, I was qualified
to preach.
Then there
were the cultural differences! I was unsure that my words could
be relevant to the people of a Gbaya village who live without
electricity, running water, modern medicine, or higher education.
Finally, I was worried about my gender. I would be the first
woman ever to stand behind the pulpit of the Dankali Lutheran
Church, because the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Cameroon
does not yet ordain women. Would they accept me? What about
the women sitting in church that day? How would they feel to
see a white foreigner preaching at their church, when that role
is not available to them?
It all
just seemed too hard, but when my friend Marie Madeleine said
those words, “So, you don’t want to share the Good
News with us?” all the obstacles simply fell away. In
a sentence, my friend cut to the core of Christian mission.
It as simple as sharing the Good News and trusting in God transcend
the obstacles. And with her words, her friendship, and her hospitality,
Marie Madeleine showed me the meaning of ministry. Ministry
is inviting others into the act of telling and retelling the
Good News that is at the heart of who we are, and it is loving
them and helping them all along the way.
I trace
my call to ordained ministry back to that moment, when the meaning
of Christian life exploded in my imagination. I could share
the Good News with the congregation at Dankali, and I did want
to, and if this was possible, I started to wonder what other
things were possible with God. That night, I wrote my first
sermon by the light of a hurricane lantern, and the next morning,
I preached it to a packed church. It felt surprisingly natural,
and afterward, Marie Madeleine said to me, “You preached
well! See, God was with you!”
Nearly four years later, I am a candidate for ordained ministry
at Pacific Lutheran Theological Seminary. All along my journey,
as a missionary and now as a seminarian, my home congregation,
Reformation Lutheran Church, in Wichita, KS, has blessed me
with financial support, encouragement and prayers, and I am
so grateful to them. Now, I am on the cusp of a yearlong Horizon
International Internship with Lutheran Church of the Good Shepherd
in Mexico City. I cannot wait to see what things God makes possible
in Mexico and in my future service to God’s church.
Quinn Gorges
Pacific Lutheran Theological Seminary
Berkley, CA
06/01/07
“I
can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”
Philippians 4:13 |
