One theme from today’s Scripture readings appears crystal clear – Call. Today’s sacred stories also seem clear about the circumstances in which the Call was given and received; Isaiah, Paul, and Simon experienced something extraordinary. They couldn’t miss hearing God’s voice in unusual external events, and they probably couldn’t say no. Isaiah was confronted by pure Majesty-on-High and his lips were singed with burning coal. Paul saw Jesus of Nazareth with his own eyes, resurrected after execution, and Simon’s nets were tearing apart with the great number of fish after working hard all night and failing to catch anything. What could these men do? As people in Tanzania say, Ukiitwa, inayobaki ni kuitikia tu. “Under the circumstances, if you are called the only thing left for you is to say, ‘yes.’”
My Call was not so clear or compelling. What I remember about being called to mission and religious life is fuzzy. I was a young sixth grader in Catholic school, and out of the blue, I wanted to go to Africa. That was it. I don’t remember wanting to save souls in a ‘foreign’ country or give my life to God. Dad said, “Suzie, you just want adventure!” At the time in the late 1950’s, my options were limited because Peace Corps and other groups were not yet started. It seemed the only way for me to get to Africa was mission, and then, for a young Catholic girl to be a missionary, I had to become a sister. Again, my options were slim. Maryknoll was the only missionary community I knew, so after high school I filled out forms, passed the entrance requirements, entered in 1962, and was assigned to Africa in 1970. Dad was right, life has been an adventure ever since!
For sure, the same ‘Majesty-on-High’ whose presence was dramatically felt by today’s biblical characters, was behind my young desire to go to Africa. Initially, the Call was faint, but it never left me. And after all these years, I sense God’s Call was, and continues to be msukumo wa ndani as Tanzanians say, "tension inside the body pushing out," an intrinsic quality, an internal gravity keeping after me and holding me in orbit. There were times when I wanted to go in another direction, but some mundane thing pulled me back to stand firm. In one example, I decided in my early years to leave Maryknoll and went to tell our novice mistress. But she wasn’t in her office, and I never went back.
In remembering bits of my story, I am curious about what Call means for today’s youth. Crossing cultures has granted me contact with young women and men in Tanzania and the United States. They come from very different societies and cultures yet share common ground as members of millennial and Gen Z generations; youth today seem very authentic, pragmatic, informed, articulate and spiritual. Some youth in the United States do not go to Church, while Tanzanian youth join mainline religions like Lutheran, Catholic, Islam, Pentecostal or a mixture of these. I met a young man who fixes tire punctures in Arusha wears a red or white Palestinian scarf, a keffiyeh, around his head. I asked if he was Muslim. He said, ‘Oh no, I pray at the Thunder for Salvation of All Nations Church.’
I doubt if youth in either country see life choices as a Call from God, yet in listening to them, I hear traces of msukumo wa ndani, to which they seem attentive. After college and working temporary jobs in the United States, my millennial nephew, John, wrote he had an idea that just wouldn’t go away – like “a galloping rhinoceros that keeps after me.” Well, a rhino is not a furry little rabbit, so something big (like Majesty-on-High) wanted his attention. John said, “don’t laugh, but I really want this!” My dear nephew is now in Japan teaching English, speaking Japanese and studying for his Masters.
The other day, I saw the young Palestinian Christian Tanzanian lad, who asked me to bring the car over for a wash up. Mabuki said, Sista Usicheke - don’t laugh, but I have a funny idea that won’t go away. I’ll tell you about it sometime!
Perhaps he has a Call from Majesty-on-High.
Photo of John F, the author's nephew, and his dad, John T in Japan courtesy of Sr. Sue Rech, MM.