"There is a subtle difference between a mission and a promise. A mission is something you strive to accomplish - a promise is something you are compelled to keep. One is individual, the other is shared. When a mission and a promise are one and the same... that's when mountains are moved and races are won." ~ Hala Moddelmog (President and CEO, Susan G. Komen for the Cure)
Local and Starbucks? Not really. I usually patronize the little guy, the small locally owned business. Not the mega concerns chewing up the unique and unrepeatable small town shops. Like. . . ah . . .Starbucks.
But there I was with my 25 dollar gift card and a raging thirst for French Roast Sumatran blend. (Need you ask? Caffeinated of course.) And I found something very cool. A homily on a Starbucks paper coffee cup. It's my quote du jour, what they, in the land of Starbucks, refer to as "The Way I See It"
Mx. Moddelmog makes a very good point. Sometime in the eighties, the notion of institutional and personal mission statements became Very Important Transformational Work in our society, but somewhere along the way, we lost the sense of promises that guide our mission and vision. The words have become an end in themselves. "We now have a mission statement." Check. Next. Or when we use our mission and vision statements as another way of setting church goals, it feels more like a to do list, something we 'should' do, rather than something we are called to do as a living manifestation of our faith in the world.
As I pondered my coffee cup, I considered all the mission statements I've been part of writing - and realized that I no longer even remember most of them. But the promises I've made, now those are memorable. Not the social promises that I REALLY meant at the time, but the promises that seem to be linked to my DNA itself. The ones that make a difference to me, that failure to attend to cause me sleepless nights. I have never even named most of them, but they're there and I know they're there because I constantly work to fulfill them, understanding that big promises demand more than a one-off effort.
The promise to give the world another advocate for peace. The promise to create sanctuary for plants, animals and people on the land I steward. The promise to give every child I encounter, a welcoming place in the church. The promises to my beloveds - that I will be there for and with them - whatever life may bring our way. The promise to make my life count.
I wonder what our individual and congregational lives would be like, if instead of visioning 'processes' and mission writing 'work', we made promises to ourselves and to each other. What races could we win? What obstacles could we overcome?
