Foreword<br > by MARTIN E. MARTY， The University of Chicago<br > "Here am I， send me， send meF <br > That s the spirit.<br > That s the spirit Isaiah (6:8) finally caught in his temple vision.<br >It s the spirit that in the olden， golden days of missionaries the<br >Christians used to sing about. It s the spirit that sent people to<br >Greenland s icy mountains， India s coral strand， and Afric s sunny<br >fountains. So they said or sang. It s the spirit that today s ministers<br >profess when they take vows of service， and it s the spirit today s<br >congregations fess up to when asked to justify their existence.<br > "Here am 1， send me， send me!"<br > People are still sent， and they go. They smuggle Bibles into the<br >Soviet Union and duck bullets in Uganda. Agents of Jesus Christ<br >endure prisons in Korea and Chile and the hazards of America s<br >inner cities and even its suburbs. There will be chaplains in com-<br >bat zones and communicable disease wards or reconcilei s in the<br >no man s lands of divorce courts and political conflict.<br > "Here am I， send me， send reeF <br > Silence. There are zones， or at least there is a zone， that few are<br >prepared to enter. Maybe they find the language of the old mis-<br >sionary hymns quaint and corny， but few of them will deny the<br >biblical impulse behind lines like: "Loud and long the Master<br >calleth . . ." The calling is not the problem for the church; the<br >answering is.<br >