Towards the Grace of Uncertainty: A Parent’s Struggle with His Son’s Decision to Become A Missionary
“Mom, Dad, just to let you know, I have accepted the offer to become a FOCUS missionary. I will start next year after I graduate.” These were the words of Austin, our youngest child, earlier this month. Both Lili, my wife, and I had known for some time that this was coming. Still, we felt a knot in our stomach. We accepted his decision, but I’d be lying if I said that we wouldn’t have breathed easier had Austin told us, “Hey Mom, Dad, by the way, I changed my mind.”
Sometimes God works slowly in a person, and we can’t say for certain when a transformation began. But we noticed something different was happening with Austin during the second semester of his freshman year. Since then, the highly unusual path that he has taken has severely tested my wisdom as a parent and faith as a Christian.
In that spring of 2018, I noticed unusual orders in our family’s Amazon account. Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis. Theology for Beginners by Frank Sheed. A few of our kids’ friends were sharing our account, so I thought one of them must be into theology or religion. Then came Till We Have Faces, Theology and Sanity, Life of Christ, and other spiritual books. I got curious. As it turned out, Austin was the culprit. But these were good books for the soul, so I didn’t mind paying. In fact, I was rather impressed that he was reading them.
By fall, Austin started telling us about FOCUS (Fellowship of Catholic University Students), and I started doing my own research. FOCUS sends missionaries (mostly young college graduates) to college campuses across America to “bring lost and lukewarm souls into the fullness of the faith” [1]. I appreciated FOCUS as I had seen its marvelous effect on Austin: how it had not only made him closer to Christ, but also turned him into an ardent advocate for Him. And so, all was well. I prayed for the growth of Austin’s faith.
What I failed to understand was that when the Holy Spirit sets a heart on fire, there is no telling how far the blaze will go. I was in for a big shock. Actually, two.
The first one came in December when Austin told us that he wanted to switch his major from Neuroscience to Religious Studies. That’s a story in itself, but allow me to save that for another day.
The second — and bigger — surprise came half a year later. “Mom, Dad, there is something I want to tell you,” came the news in a tone that would raise the heartbeat of every parent. “FOCUS has invited me to apply as a missionary, and if I do, I think I have a good chance to be accepted.” My heart sank. Getting a BS in Neuroscience and becoming a missionary for two years was acceptable. So was getting a BA in Religious Studies on the way to become a theology professor. But getting a religious studies degree and becoming a missionary? That was like putting all your eggs in a crumbled basket. It was a doubtful plan with no backup.
At least, that was my argument with Austin.
Despite my respect for FOCUS, it was tough for me as a parent to accept that Austin was going to work for them. At the heart of my discomfort was the unorthodox way FOCUS missionaries earn their income: they have to fundraise it. In essence, they contact individuals and families and ask them to provide financial support. “Isn’t that like begging?,” I thought.
As Austin went back to Norman, Oklahoma, for his sixth semester, I asked him to consider other, “equally-noble” options of serving Christ, like interning for other Catholic organizations. He agreed to look into that.
Two months passed by, and Covid-19 landed on the American shore. As my business travel came to a halt, I used the spare time to read biographical books. Through those life stories, I felt that God kindly challenged my view and offered His own instead.
For starters, to my relief I found that I was not the only one that had a problem with begging. Even the early followers of Francis of Assisi — people like Bernard of Quintavalle who had the enviable courage to give away his riches to embrace poverty — hated begging [2]. Francis had to enlighten them with his wisdom. “My little children, … do not believe that [begging] is so difficult and humiliating. … In exchange for what they give you, your benefactors will receive the incomparable blessing of God’s love. You will therefore be in the position of someone who offers a hundredfold for one. So be not ashamed, but go forth with joy.”
Francis’ words changed the followers’ view of begging, and from then on, they vied to be the ones sent begging for the day. His words were a revelation to me, too. For the first time, I saw the “beggar” differently — as one who also offers a grace, that is, God’s blessing!
Throughout the church’s history, Francis was not the only one who advocated begging. Seven centuries after he started the Friars Minor Order in Italy, a young, poor priest named Josemaria Escriva founded the Opus Dei movement in Spain from nothing. His modest ground floor apartment, which he shared with his mother Dolores and his sister Carmen, served as the first “center” of Opus Dei.
To fund the first real center in 1933, the Escriva family sold the only thing they owned (a small piece of land) and donated their furniture. Beyond that, they depended on the help of friends and the early members, as well as the generosity of many individual donors. So, Fr. Escriva constantly begged for alms “like a child begs for candy” — for money as well as for prayers [3]. Everywhere Opus Dei went — to other Spanish cities, to Rome, to America and beyond — they always started with next to nothing. To build up their presence, they had to solicit money from many people. (The members worked as well, but their income was not enough.) In short, they had to beg.
What the Opus Dei members never lacked was trust in God (plus the willingness to work very hard and an ample sense of humor). Ever since Fr. Escriva heard the call of God in the silence of his retreat room on October 2, 1928, he never doubted for a second that he was doing God’s work, and hence He would provide.
And herein lies the hidden beauty of begging. What Francis and Josemaria did by begging was to put themselves and their followers continually at the feet of the Lord and to trust Him alone. Francis could have asked Bernard to donate his wealth to their nascent Order and used it to fund its growth. Instead, he asked him to sell all his possessions, give the proceed away to the poor, and join him as a penniless person. As such, they had no choice but to rely on God’s providence.
Another fruit of begging is humility. When one has to go “through the grind of following leads, waiting in reception rooms, sometimes getting thrown out, braving inclement weather to receive perhaps nothing but a pittance and good wishes” [3], it is very hard not to be humbled. But as one is poor — in material wealth and in spirit — so is he/she closer to Christ. “Anyone who has never met a beggar has never encountered Christ,” wrote Dr. Peter Berglar, “and anyone who has never begged has never followed Christ.”
Francis of Assisi and Josemaria Escriva were canonized as saints in 1228 and 2002, respectively. By now, the Franciscan and Opus Dei organizations are spread all over the globe. The former has about 11,000 members in its Friars Minor Order alone, plus thousands more in Poor Clares and the Third Order [4], while the latter has more than 90,000 members [5]. Founded by Curtis Martin in 1998, FOCUS now has 730 missionaries in 172 locations, including five international campuses [1].
At this point I need to backtrack a bit. “Begging” has such a negative connotation in our macho and individualistic world that I am afraid you might imagine Austin will be doing door-to-door solicitation. That is certainly not the case. FOCUS missionaries receive a thorough training, and they approach selective potential donors in a professional way, articulately explaining their mission and work. I know because I personally have sat through one. At the end of the “meeting,” I gladly offered my commitment to support the missionary. How could I not, after witnessing how his work transformed Austin?
As human beings, we strive for certainty (even as the pandemic reminds us how little control we have on the future), and in this land of rugged individuals, we are not supposed to depend on anyone. Relying on the charity of others sounded so uncertain to me. Reading the saints’ lives has not eliminated my worries about Austin’s future, but I have slowly learned to appreciate the grace that uncertainty brings. I would like to say that the hands of the Lord are working on me, just as they have been on Austin.
As I opened my daily prayer book on April 29, Vinita Hampton Wright’s words greeted me. “The Scriptures don’t really encourage our control or our certainty,” she wrote. “The sacred stories encourage us to trust God’s love — and to stay close to Jesus” [6]. If that is what Austin will do in his career, perhaps I should be content. The path won’t be easy, the financial perks won’t be much if any, and the title won’t be fancy. But doesn’t following Christ entail carrying a cross joyfully?
What I am is God’s gift to me. What I become is my gift back to God.
References:
- FOCUS. (2019). Be Soldiers. Retrieved May 17, 2020.
- Englebert, O. (1965). St. Francis of Assisi, A Biography. Franciscan Herald Press.
- Berglar, P. (1994). Opus Dei, Life and Work of Its Founder Josemaria Escriva. Scepter Publishers.
- US Franciscans. (n.d.) How many Franciscans are there? Retrieved May 17, 2020.
- Opus Dei. (2014, January 27). Christians in the middle of the world. Retrieved May 17, 2020.
- Wright, V. H. (2020). The Great Initiator. Give Us This Day, 10(4), 392.
Originally published at http://rsatrio.com on May 23, 2020 with more photos and a glossary in English & Indonesian.
