In the Catholic Church if you desire to serve God or give your life to full-time ministry for the Lord, they make you a nun or a monk. The difference between the two is the “garb.” The variety of outfits for nuns has a wide range. Some nuns look like they can fly; others wear a brown Franciscan dress that will remind you of the movie. Garb for monks simply makes you think that they need an air conditioned room.

In the Protestant tradition, they do not offer you a garb per se. Instead, they tag you in a variety of ways from Neo-Pentecostal to liberal to fundamental. These are categories that may change depending on who is interpreting you. You might become something different if the powers that be find yet another category to put you in. A good and kind leader looked at me and said these words: “You have a ministry that is out-of- the box.” I really don’t know who made the “box,” but I am sure he or she must be miserable! How can one be confined and stationary when he or she is dealing with something as profound as sanctity?

Sanctity is not an outward expression of faith; on the contrary, it is very much inward and very much ongoing throughout your life.

What you were yesterday might not be what you are today. You can wear a certain garb, but it does not tell who you truly are. The Holy Spirit, when in the mode of sanctifying, will stop at nothing to prepare you for eternity. At times you seem all together; at other times you look like a truck ran over you three times.

What garb are you wearing? Has someone tagged you and boxed you into a corner? As a United Methodist Evangelist, I find a variety of expressions of faith. I have encountered adult, seminary graduates who believe they have been called to protect the “box” from any moving theology. “Fit in the box,” they say to humble and gentle pastors who make their call holy and serve with zest.

I would not do well wearing a brown robe, tied at my waist by a piece of white rope. It is just not me. I would feel out of place at the airport, but at least I would belong to an acceptable group of people who want to pursue sanctity. No instead, I wear Jesus’ robe of righteousness, and my faith is demonstrated by my actions. Wrong or right, I am visible and exposed theologically. I have been called to bring worship and revival to where I am invited.

This approach seems to be producing many results. Hundreds of Methodist pastors are pursuing sanctity where they live without any “garb.” Over 150 United Methodists travel to Brazil every year to experience revival in their lives. Several thousand contribute to keep this ministry moving forward and finance a large feeding and medical program in a poor neighborhood in Brazil.

No, I do not need a “garb.” I have a ministry which is “out-of-the-box.” Jesus had the same. I am in good company. How about you?

Rick Bonfim

UMC team works with Brazilian family
By KRISTINE FORTUNATO
kfortunato@TheCitizenNews.com

As he clicks through the hundreds of pictures of past mission trips loaded on
his laptop, Randy DeGroot struggles to find the right words to describe his
experiences.

He finds it difficult to adequately describe the beauty of the country, the
poverty of the people, and his passion for international missions.

A captain with Delta Airlines, Randy has taken three trips to Brazil with his
church, Peachtree City United Methodist, starting back in 2001 and most recently
this past March, when a team of eight spent over a week in the hills surrounding
Rio de Janeiro, working to improve the quality of life for one special family.

Rio de Janeiro is a city well known for its ritz and glamour, beautiful beaches
and international vacationers.

Overlooking the city high on the mountain Corcovado, meaning Hunchback, is the
famous statue Cristo Redentor, or Christ the Redeemer, with outstretched arms
visible from all over Rio down below.

While names like Copacabana and Ipanema bring to mind vacations and fun in the
sun, the shantytowns covering the hillsides around Rio are hard to ignore.

More than one-third of the population dwell in these shacks clinging
perilously to the mountainsides. Because all their resources, water, food,
furniture, must be hauled up the hills manually, the poorest families often live
the highest up.

It was one of these families, living high on a hill in Santa Barbara near Rio,
that the Peachtree City United Methodist team focused their ministry on.

A previous mission trip had begun the work of restoring the house, and the
construction mission continued this past March.

Carlos and Christina and their four kids had been sharing two small bedrooms,
with not enough beds to go around, forcing some children to sleep on the floor.

The mission team purchased new mattresses for everyone, hauling them up the
steep slopes by hand.

Randy described the living situation this family faced everyday: To arrive at
their home you must go as far as you can on a paved road, then walk down a tiny
dirt road past garbage and trash. It is at this point the road truly ends, and
you begin a steep descent, followed by a sharp climb, he explains.

The house comes into view, plainly made of local bricks and mortar, with an old
rusted door to cover the shack and barbed wire to keep it safe.

New appliances were delivered, and running water was diverted to the house,
easing the burden of carrying water up by hand every day.

One of the most amazing things was bringing water to them, Randy says.
They had carried it up the hill for years, and now they could just turn on a
faucet. Think of the hours that were spent merely transporting water up that
hill.

The team was also able to tap into local electrical wires and properly run
electricity into the home.

Another improvement came from laying the concrete foundation for an extra room
attached to the house so a mother-in-law could move in and be cared for. Randy
says the team was rewarded by seeing the entire family join the local church.

We were able to take a hopeless family and give them hope, change their
lives, he says. That is what mission is all about, being able to touch
someone life, even if you live 5000 miles away.

One of the hardest parts of these mission trips happens at the end of each one,
when Randy struggles to convey his experiences to people back home in America.

It is hard to relate to that kind of poverty here in Peachtree City, he
says. In Brazil, you can escape it or look the other way; you are forced
to face it and find ways to deal with it. Here, it is so easy to avoid the bad
parts of town and ignore the problems.

After returning from a mission trip, you don’t look at the world in the
same way. You almost feel like you don’t fit in anymore. Buying that
$4-Starbucks coffee is a struggle, knowing the poverty you have just seen.

Trying to explain this, Randy feels he walks a fine line in opening people
eyes to the world around them without making them feel condemned for the wealth
Americans enjoy.

He is quick to point out that mission fields exist everywhere, and that everyone
can make a difference right where they live. Everyone should have that
life-changing experience of helping others, he says.

We can all do the same work, no matter what country we are in. It doesn’t matter where you are
or what church or mission you are with, because poverty is poverty, hunger is hunger.

We are all called to help others.