Twenty minutes from Dorcas House, an orphanage for children in Mexico, lie a set of pristine soccer fields.  I never would have guessed that the soccer fields would be such fertile ground for discussion of God’s Mission in the world, but there they were, and there we were.  I had just returned with a tiny group of students from the University of California San Diego, where I had started working as Campus Missioner just that semester, and we had gathered in the parking lot next to the soccer field to recollect before saying goodbye for the day.
           
I remember feeling like I was sharing something intimate with my students.  I had spent the previous year as a Young Adult Service Corps missionary volunteer in Tegucigalpa, Honduras.  Upon my arrival back in San Diego, the Dean informed me that I was to serve on the board for the St. Paul’s Cathedral’s newly acquired orphanage.  In the few months since, Dorcas House had become a refuge for me.  As I was still adapting to life back in the United States, I would make regular trips down to visit the kids, speak Spanish, and to remember my own sense that God calls Christians to cross human borders and embrace all of God’s people.  I was inviting my new students to share a holy space for me.  I was nervous about how they would respond.

I was pleased when they embraced the children from the moment they walked in the door.  The little hands reaching out for hugs are impossible to deny.  We started with puzzles and books with the little girls as the older boys gathered their gear for the events to come.  Our specific task that day was to take the small group of boys down to a nearby soccer field.   We lined up and held hands, threading our way through the crowded and haphazard streets.  After about a mile of walking we arrived at the “soccer park” a collection of three small dirt lots, strewn with trash.  We only had time for a couple of games before returning again through the maze of alleyways and loading up the cars to go home.

After a long wait to cross through the border check point we arrived back at UCSD and gathered on those pristine soccer fields to reflect.  A freshmen pointed out the irony:  “It took us as long to walk to those dirt lots as it would to drive the kids up here to UCSD to play on these beautiful fields.  Couldn’t we bring them up here next time?”  Putting my hand on his shoulder I explained that it would be impossible to get passports and visas to bring the kids up to play.  “That’s just not fair,” was his response.  Over the next year we had a long discussion about the sinful divisions placed between God’s people.  The students began to see their work in crossing the border as a witness to the Kingdom of God.  Three years later the UCSD Episcopal campus ministry still takes a trip every month to visit the children of Dorcas House.  We’ve been to concerts, ridden water slides, and celebrated Dia De Los Muertos together.  And we’ve played a lot of soccer.  Even after I left my work at UCSD to attend seminary I would receive regular updates from my former students about their most recent trip.  The passion I was nervous about sharing for God’s mission in a small corner of Tijuana has been embraced by a group of students who are passing that passion on to others.  It all started on a soccer field.

by Mike Angell, Diocese of San Diego

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