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Stories from the Field: Lesvos, Greece

At first, when we got the assignment for Greece, we were a little bummed. Our initial thoughts were “Oh great, a trip to Europe. I thought missions was supposed to be hard?” The ego of a 20-something is a beautiful thing, is it not? But when we were told that we’d be working in a refugee camp on the island of Lesvos, it felt like we would be doing real missions. We were educated on the refugee crisis as much as possible by the partnering missionaries there and told to be flexible, seeing as how we had little to no expectations of what we would experience on arrival.

We partnered with Greater European Mission, which operates under the umbrella of Euro Relief, to serve in the camp. Euro Relief is one of the only Christian organizations left working in the overpopulated prison-turned-refugee-camp that has not lost funding. To understand the overall climate inside, imagine a place surrounded by tall fences with barbed wire, guarded gates, exhausted living space, limited funds, volunteer laborers, and desperate people. And amidst this difficult environment exist people who represent every race/ethnicity, political belief, status of wealth, and religion all squeezed onto an island recovering from economic collapse and slow asylum processes. Regardless, this is where Christ had called us to go as his hands and feet.                                                                                                          

“For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’” “And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’” Matthew25: 35-36& 40

Our days were broken up into 8-hour shifts where we would pass out basic needs like food, clothing, and means of shelter. Much of our time was also spent monitoring the different section gates to make sure the right people got to the right places, but the language barriers made it difficult to communicate, so we did our best to learn what we could of Arabic, Farsi, French, and Kurdish. Seeing the desperation in a mother’s eyes in need of formula for her child, families sleeping on top of each other in a tent, a man in need of a blanket on a chilly night, or the clever bartering of children to get more food didn’t require a common language to be understood. But even with all of this, it was there at the gates that we built relationships and had spiritual/gospel conversations.

Carefully we began talking about Christ and the message of reconciliation in this majority-Muslim, male population. There could be no record of our conversations or the Greek military could remove Euro Relief from serving the people, which would leave the people without any long-term missions organizations. In two conversations with two different men, we could see the work God was doing in Lesvos. One man who had landed on the conclusion that his labor for Allah would be enough to guarantee his paradise still conversed with us for an hour over the holes in his eternal hopes. The other man openly prayed in the wee hours of the morning with one of the City Project interns asking to learn more about Jesus. Praise God! Lastly, on our second Sunday, we prayed for God to move in Greece and got the chance to worship among the people in an off-site church. We sang in French and Arabic, which was such a taste of heaven.

These explicit glimpses of how God is in control of the refugee crisis sustained us in moments where it felt hopeless. On a day when we were not in the camp, we visited what is known as the “life jacket graveyard” in the neighboring town of Molyvos. In this landfill lay thousands of life jackets, boats, rubber boats, and tires refugees had used to make the dangerous cross by night from Turkey. Suddenly we could see a visual representation of all the heartbrokenness and depravity that had come from this war; how the side effects of sin had brought so much pain; and how our own sin was no better than the sin that had led to this crisis. Looking at those piles of rubble was like staring in our own hearts. In that moment I was grateful for a Savior who has the power to save those who had caused a lifejacket graveyard to exist in the same way that He can save me.

“But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore, God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city.” Hebrews 11:16

Psalm 46 was the scripture we held onto in the many moments of grief. Through ethnic riots, evacuations, fires, ambulance rides, and other difficult moments, we were reminded that our God is sovereign and we were encouraged to see Euro Relief so strategically placed, acting as the hands and feet of Jesus.

Was it safe? No! But it is where we were called to go and I hope we will continue to go to hard places so that Christ may be glorified.

“Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth! The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress (10-11).”

Lessons From the Field – Camp L’Arcada, Spain

Typically, the best stories have a hero—someone who has risen to the top and is now at the center of all the action—and let’s face it, that is most often the fairy tale we like to live in or, at the very least, imagine when thinking about the life we want to live. But the greatest thing we learned as a team this summer is that a mission trip is not about our story. Instead, our story fits into a much greater story of redemption, one that is worth traveling over 5,000 miles to tell.

My team and I served at Camp L’Arcada, also known as Indian camp, in Spain for the past two weeks alongside counselors and 95 kids ages 3 to 12 years old. No one on our team was completely fluent in Spanish, so the language barrier propelled us into an incredible opportunity—to love without sharing eloquent sentences and the challenge to encourage without speaking powerful words. We didn’t have much of a common language—the one thing you usually need in order to build relationships—but in that, we learned there are some things that are universal and don’t need to be translated: laughter, tears, high fives, hugs & serving. Indian camp in Spain may seem like a weird concept at first, especially in the middle of the Pyrenees mountains, but it offers a unique way to share life in the form of stories. The country of Spain is hardened to the gospel, however, when told in the form of a story, barriers are broken and lives can be transformed.

The greatest definition of humility is this– not thinking less of yourself, but thinking about yourself less. In two words, that is what my team and I learned over the past two weeks: humble servanthood. Because let me be the first to tell you that cleaning one bathroom for over 130 people is not glamorous, drying the 400th cup can get pretty old, and scraping food off of 130 plates does not smell great. In those moments, we had to think about ourselves less and focus on the ones we were serving and the One we serve. We were intentionally paving a smoother path for the gospel to be shared. We had the opportunity to pray for and over those that would be sharing the gospel throughout the week, to love the 95 campers well, and create the picture of a body of Christ—one body with many parts. We were the hands and feet while others were the mouth. We were the backbone of support, and at the end of the day, a group of 20 Spaniards became family.

The gospel was shared through words and, for our team, through actions. L’Arcada is reaching Spain one child at a time through camps and gathering them around to tell the greatest story ever told—that the Son of God would leave His place in Heaven to come down and die for me and you; that He would dare to enter into this broken world for my heart which is even dirtier than that camp bathroom on a good day; that He looked beyond himself to his children and stayed on a cross until he could cry “it is finished”. Because the One who knew no wrong took the penalty for us, we can rise from the ashes of defeat to victory. Now there’s a shocking story worth telling.

That is the reason we cleaned, swept, lead activities, and loved Spanish children—because it wasn’t about us, and it never will be. It is about the One who knew we couldn’t reach relationship with God on our own so He emptied himself and became a servant—the best model of humble servanthood we could ever know—to become the greatest story we could ever be a part of, and most definitely tell.

— Kristen Schleich (College Team)

“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of others. In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: who, being in very nature with God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.” Phillipians 2:4-8