Advent without Exams

This morning is the third Sunday of Advent: the Sunday of Joy.

Being away from family during advent, without the press of college exams and end of semester pressures, takes on a new flavor of homesickness that I wasn't expecting. The Christmas carols I have been looking forward to bring tears to my eyes as I think about family traditions at home. And the season seems to be slipping away from me without leaving much of an impression.

And then there are the moments that make advent come alive. Joining with women from church last Sunday to make wreaths or center pieces from ever greens and holly, drinking Christmas tea and crocheting with Megan and Ket on Thursday night, caroling around the 19th ward with church members on Friday night, buying a tree (a very small tree) and decorating it with my roommate, cup after cup of hot chocolate.

And the snow - the snow that just keeps coming. I shoveled the drive way yesterday for the first time in probably 5 years. And I got into a snow ball fight with a six year old from church while caroling on Friday night. And I'm finally learning to drive in the slippery white stuff without sliding out.

But flowing through it all is a sense of want - a sense of anticipation for Christmases as they were celebrated in our home on the river in Winnipeg. For Saturday afternoon baking and peppernut rolling.For a candle light service and Christmas presents on Christmas eve and back-bacon Christmas morning. And a hope that this Christmas with Hannah and Joshua and Laura and Aunt Chris will be just as rewarding, if different than Christmases past.

But this morning is the third Sunday of Advent: the Sunday of Joy.

Joy is different than happiness, remember? Joy is embedded in life, and can withstand temporary sadness, and even the advent tears of homesickness can be filled with joy for happiness past and memories to reflect on.

And so it is with Joy that I anticipate Matt coming to visit on Tuesday and heading to Ontario a week later. And even with joy that I reflect on the tears that come to my eyes as I live into advent here in Rochester.

not just a back up plan

I was confronted by one of my clients this week who seemed convinced that I could not have voluntarily chosen this year of service. While rolling his fingerprints in order to request a background check from the FBI, he attempted to make a pun about how much money I was rolling in. He had been a fairly obstinate client and it was nearing the end of a long day of walk-ins in which our waiting-room had been packed beyond seating capacity on two occasions, so needless to say I was tired. I didn't joke back as I might have done on a different day, but instead point blank confided in him that I am a full time volunteer and live off a stipend of $50 a month (after housing and food and bills are paid of course). I have revealed this to multiple clients, and very often while standing over the wet ink pad – apparently my monthly income is an intriguing conversation to hold during fingerprint rolling – but I was not prepared for his reaction. His assumption that I must be volunteering because I could not find a job took me aback – most of my clients seem to understand and vocalize appreciation for my desire to volunteer without needing to ask for a reason. Maybe it was that this client was young (only a year older than myself), or that he was white, or just that he was grumpy, but as I struggled to explain to him why I was volunteering instead of working I was unable to convince him that I was in fact extremely thankful for my experience with MVS in Rochester. I told him I loved my clients, I was really enjoying my work, and learning so much – and he responded with bitter humor that I was learning not to get arrested in the state of New York (he was frustrated because I had told him New York State does not expunge anything from your criminal history) and left.

I am not sure if my client thought any more of our conversation after he left the office, but I have not been able to stop thinking of it ever since. Why did I choose to volunteer with MVS, and are these reasons being met during my time in Rochester? What does it mean to be a volunteer on behalf of Rochester Mennonite Fellowship in Rochester? And what exactly am I learning (besides the intricacies of expungement law in New York State and beyond)?

I have never thought of MVS as a fall back plan because I couldn't find a job – in fact I intentionally decided not to work this year because I wanted to do a year of volunteer work. I was excited about living into a mission of service, about actively focusing on loving others in my daily work, and about a program in which I could meet my basic needs so that I would not have to worry about finances as I explored social services work and relationships with the ex-offender population. In some ways MVS was an internship option, similar to those I experienced within college, but in terms of vocation, for me choosing MVS was much more than selecting a year long internship.

I am getting all the benefits of on the job training that internships provide, learning a lot about a population I might want to work with for the long term, and developing relationships with co-workers and other people in the criminal/restorative justice field that will help me network if/when I transition to traditional work in the non-profit world. However, I am also part of a community that challenges me to integrate my volunteer work with the rest of my life, inspires me to seek God in relationships at home and in the neighborhood, and reminds me that the narrative of profit, of segregation and individualization, of consumerism and scarcity is not the only definition of success.

I could not be more excited about what I have been experiencing how I have grown so far. I also have so much more to learn and many dreams yet to realize here in Rochester.