August 1, 2007

Dear Friends,

Susan, a dentist from Tennessee, went to the Petén with other missioners to do preventive dental care for hundreds of children.

In a hot, tinned-roof church with a mud floor somewhere in a remote village in the Petén, Susan sits with her mouth agape to show the children of the village what she wants them to do. “Open your mouth,” she says with a smile, knowing that none of the kids will understand her. Many of them still only speak Kekchi, their native language. Spanish is yet to come.

The kids file dutifully by, often laughing, poking, and roughhousing with the kids around them. The missioners have come from middle Tennessee to be with their partners in the Petén. In consultation with their partners, the Peteneros had asked that something be done for the teeth of the children that live in these remote villages. Supplies of fluoride had been obtained and lugged thousands of miles along with hundreds of toothbrushes to this rural outpost. The missioners had come prepared to administer fluoride as well as to fulfill other responsibilities agreed to by both parties in their partnership agreement.

This group of youngsters was rather easy to direct: a smile, a few words in English, a rubber bracelet inscribed “Jesús te ama,” a new toothbrush (with instructions of use acted out by a missioner), an encouraging pat, and the kid was ready for his next activity. That next activity was frequently spitting on the floor as he filed out, beaming, with his new toothbrush. “Good thing it’s a mud floor,” a missioner laughingly commented. The concrete floor in the next village got the same treatment. A little less hygienic, I suppose, but the missioners took it all in stride.

It wasn’t quite that easy either: chaos reigned. Younger kids were frequently frightened by the strangers with mouths agape and fluoride in hand. They cried out with fear of the unknown, serendipitously making it easier to administer the fluoride. The result, though, was the same. The kids ended up with strengthened teeth, a bracelet, a toothbrush, and the joy that never ceases to amaze—chasing soap bubbles blown by missioners.

The fluoride treatment was too late to help a lot of the teeth in those young mouths, with black holes where baby or adult teeth should have been. Bleeding gums and spikes for what pass as teeth leapt into view with almost every kid—evidence of bad diet and no understanding of tooth care. This isn’t surprising in a country where a recent report (Prensa Libre, June 10, 2007) shows that 70 percent of indigenous kids suffer malnutrition, and in areas like the rural Petén that number increases to 90 percent. The missioners didn’t fool themselves, however. They knew their effort was not going to greatly alter the situation of these kids. Nor would it help those few parents who availed themselves of the opportunity, not knowing they were beyond the age that fluoride can help, but no missioner was going to deny them—or tell them. But the missioners will return next year to do another treatment and probably to see the same situation in the same kids.

That must be what it means to be in partnership, recognizing that any help extended is only fleeting at best but that it must be given as a sign of our understanding of what it means to be the incarnation of Jesus. That’s a hard concept to swallow for many, believing they personally are the incarnation of Jesus when they can see their own failings so readily. Being in partnership does mean going to the same places time and again and being frustrated by the lack of what we North Americans call progress. Sometimes it’s easier to hopscotch around the country, maybe the world, always being warmly greeted by the natives but never really getting to know them. There may be value in that as well as it opens our eyes to a deeper understanding of the issues that people face in their struggles to live and be faithful. But in the process of partnership people are surprised that the incarnation expresses itself in the lives of those kids with the rotten teeth. We are struck by the sense that Jesus, through these kids, is ministering to us. Real community is formed, and we learn that spiritual strength comes through community, shared surprisingly, in this case, with those on the margins. We long to see them again. We are a communal people and we need one another to truly live out our faith. 

May you all feel part of the community of Christ to which we all belong.

Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer.
Romans 12:12

Roger

The 2007 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 65