So I saw a woman yesterday. She was on the metro escalator. I was in a rush, and I almost missed her in that dingy cement hole, the one that sends reverberating conversation up and down until it becomes indistinguishable from the rush of wind or the roar of the train. I had to look down, to make sure my racing feet didn't stumble over the awkward metro escalators, or someone's bag, or more likely, my own shoes. But I did a double take for her.
Her floral dress was simple - old lady-ish, if I may say. It looked almost like it was taken right out of my grandmother's closet in the 60's. A tad dirty. Her hair, short, was greying. She was carrying a large bag, one that seemed cumbersome and heavy, difficult to get onto the 'up' escalator. Her body, beleaguered with age, moved at a pace that stands out in this city, and in a way that seemed stiff - as if her whole body were groaning for some rest, and perhaps some new cartilage in her joints, too. But there was something else - her face. Her face, it reminded me of someone.
And that was when it went from a double-take to a triple-take, to an awkward half-gaping stare across the metro escalators. From only about halfway down the escalator, I watched her travel up on the other side until the end of my down escalator forced me off, and my attention forward.
She looked like Justine. Justine from Haiti. From a world and a half away, this woman could have been her twin sister - even moving and dressing like her. And my worlds felt like they were colliding, and then crumbling.
I have done a terrible job of being a friend to Haiti. From my comfortable bed, and my air-conditioned apartment, and my desk piled high with textbooks and essay outlines, forgetting became the simplest solution. If I don't think about it, I don't have to pray for them. I don't have to love them. I don't have to be a steward of my time and experience, to talk about them or to think of them, or to send them encouragement. I can just forget.
But the truth is, I can't and shouldn't forget, at least not completely, and the Lord uses moments like this to check me. That place, those people - they own part of my heart and my soul. Much as I may try to push those memories down, to separate that part of my experience from everyday life, I can't. Moments like this come crashing down on me not just because I am realizing that I have forgotten - it's a minor identity crisis to realize how much something has affected you, and in ways you did not realize, and in ways you were ignoring. I left part of my heart there, and I took part of theirs with me. Not just a dead part, a past part, but a living, beating, breathing, active part of my soul. A part of my soul that tugs, that cries out desperately for prayers, for help, for love and for devotion. So sometimes, re-remembering something you have deliberately forgotten is painful. But it is also beautiful. And so I will seek to remember, and to be shaped by those people.
Friday, October 19
Sunday, October 14
The Power of God
One of my professors recently accused me (as a collective part of the class, but I'll admit, it applied to me directly) of being un-educated about the world - insulated by my elite status, economic privilege, and American identity, he said we were not well-travelled or well-read, nor did we demostrate comprehensive (much less exceptional) knowledge of the global community. Nobody in the room had ever travelled to a country which had US sanctions against it. Nobody in the room could name the capital of Cote d'Ivoire, or the famous leader of the Ogoni people who was executed by the Nigerian government in 1995. Nobody could adequately explain US actions against Cuba during the Cold War, or against Iraq during the First Gulf War.**
And it's true. While I have travelled some, and I know where on the continent of Africa Cote d'Ivoire is and have a basic understanding of Ogoniland, Cuba, the Cold War, and late 20th century US foreign policy, I couldn't answer any of these questions accurately or in great detail.
And that got me to thinking - he's got a point. Why don't I know more? There are people all over the world right now who are probably watching the debates leading up to the US presidential elections, but I couldn't even tell you more than a couple state leaders, much less when they were elected (or took power), who they ran against (or killed), or what their platforms are (or who they hate). I probably can't even tell you what form of government they have. In a globalized society, especially as someone who wants to work overseas, isn't this an important thing for me to cultivate? Shouldn't I be able to discuss these things?
One of the things he said was about making time to watch things like 60 minutes, read the news beyond the front page, and explore other parts of the world. And then that got me to thinking - yea, right, in all my spare time, let me just pop on the news and take time to know the companies that own other companies that own other companies that are in bed with politicians that are making policy with other politicians that are threatening agriculture in America, and thus determine where I should or shouldn't buy things. Because that's what I have time for.
He's right though, if I wanted to make time for it, I could. I could learn that.
But I started thinking about what I do use my time for, and it looks something like this: get adequate sleep, have good quiet time with God every day, have time to make food for yourself, serve your roomates, get all your schoolwork done, serve your church body, engage with your city, relax and spend time doing things you enjoy, get out of the city and slow down, get to know people well so that you can love them well, encourage them, speak truth to them, let them speak truth to you, laugh hard, love fiercely, make time to maintain relationships across many miles.... the list goes on. And I started thinking about what would get cut out to make me a "good world citizen". And the first thing to go would be my sleep. And then my time with God. And then my relationships. And then my sanity. And none of those I'm willing to sacrifice.
So you're right, Professor. I'm a lousy "world citizen". I'm a lousy International Development student. I'm a lousy AU student. I can't name capitals or policies or historic events or politicians. I can't explain globalization, I can't discuss the US hegemony and it's consequences, and I don't understand the implications of our business ties to other countries. I don't know a detailed history of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, I don't know the nuances of US foreign alliances, or the politics of the UN. So you probably shouldn't elect me as president. But if you asked me to name all the members of my church, I bet I could do it. If you asked me to tell you about my friends - what they're struggling with, what they're loving, the way they talk, the things God has brought them through, the things they're interested in, the books they're reading, the things God is teaching them now - I could do it. If you asked me to tell you about how profoundly my own life has been affected by my brothers and sisters in Christ, you'd have me talking for hours. If you wanted to know the names and some of the stories of the homeless people who live in my 'hood, I could tell you. If you asked me to tell you what I desire to see from the Church, what my theology is on globalization, and what my role in that is, I could tell you. If you asked me to tell you about the glories of God - you'd be amazed at how much I know.
In this city, it's easy to get caught up in what you don't know, and what you should know. It's easy to find identity and power in being the supreme authority in the room on some global subject matter. I've fallen into that trap plenty of times myself. In one of the most powerful cities in the world, surrounded by powerful people, I have to remind myself what true power is. These people are only politicians and policy-makers by the will of God. They only have their position because God has deemed it fit for this time and these people. But I have the holy, perfect, overwhelming love of God - I have His spirit, the same spirit that raised Christ from the dead, the same spirit that raised me from death, into life - and I am to steward that with the gifts He has given me. And He has given me people.
So yes, I am insulated in ignorance simply by my relative position in the world. And yes, I probably ought to know more about the world I live in. But I would not spend one drop less of time glorifying God and loving people for all the knowledge in the world. I might be a crappy "world citizen", but that's not what I'm called to be. I'm called to be a disciple - a little imitation of Christ - and so that's what I'll strive for.
~~~~~
** For those of you who are curious like me and wondering, here are the (short) answers:
~Cote d'Ivoire's capital is Yamoussoukro;
~The president of the Movement for the Survival of the Ogoni People (MOSOP) executed in 1995 was Kenule "Ken" Beeson Saro Wiwa;
~The US sanctions against Cuba were initiated because Cuba nationalized all business, and expropriated that land owned by US businesses to the state;
~The sanctions against Iraq during the 1990-1991 period were initiated because Iraq invaded Kuwait and annexed and re-appropriated oil drilling on which the US was dependent. So there you have it.
Thursday, October 11
Lessons on Idolatry: Peace
Peace has become a recurring theme in my life for the last 6 weeks. In fact, 4 of my 6 classes deal with peace, violence, justice, conflict, reconciliation, and divided societies in some capacity or another. It's a hard semester - there's a lot of trying not to cry, trying not to throw my hands up and just walk away in frustration, trying not to become so cynical as to be completely ineffective, trying to avoid my tendency to over-simplify while simultaneously balance said tendency against a paralysis of any analysis at all. Between essays and classes, I'm examining theoretical approaches, four different regions/case studies, practical workshops, simulations, and expert interviews.
Amidst all this craziness, reading, and work, I'm trying to be "peaceful" myself. It's a tad overwhelming.
And I'm finding that it's far too easy to find myself trapped in a world where peace is the highest good. Where peace is the ultimate thing that I'm working for. Where my soul and my heart breaks for violence and anger because of the hurt that it causes, because of the people that it affects, and because of the stories it leaves in its wake.
But that's not the only reason violence and conflict should break me. I'm loosing my eternal, Kingdom perspective. It's an easy thing to do in this city, but that doesn't make it any more excusable, or any less devastating when you realize it's happening to you. I've turned peace into an idol - something that I hold as better than the goodness of God himself, something better than the presence of Christ in my life, than the indwelling of the Spirit in my soul, than the hope I have in heaven - not a hope of peace but a hope of God Almighty, perfect and holy.
This new kingdom includes peace, yes. Revelation 21:4 offers the promise of a new world, in which the "former things" have passed away. Isaiah, in chapter 9, tells us that Jesus is the "Prince of Peace", among other things. The character of Christ radiates peace, rules over peace, is manifest in peace, and advances peace. The Bible talks about peace a LOT - in fact, all of the New Testament epistles except one (1 John) mention peace and call the believers to it. Clearly it's important.
But (at the risk of sounding too "new-age-y"), the Bible is more concerned with "inner" peace than with worldly peace. When the Bible talks about peace, more often than not, it's referring to a peace with God. This is the most important kind of peace. This is a peace only achieved through the death and resurrection of Christ! Apart from Him, peace is impossible. And in Him is a peace that "surpasses all understanding" (Phil 4:7). Without Him, external peace is useless. This is the mantra (one of many) that I have been preaching to myself as of late. I have found myself more often than not puling out my Bible in class to examine what Scripture tells me about the world, and about my place in it. And what is clear is that my mission is to love people well. Nothing else. It is not my job to resolve the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, or to be some great negotiator. It's not even my job to be able to name the head of every nation in the world, or explain how globalized business dynamics are going to dominate the evolution of state relations for the next twenty years.
My job is two-fold: Love God. Love people. That's it.
I can only spread peace by firmly being grounded on my own peace with God, a bridge that was accomplished only through the cross and empty tomb. Even our sermon on Sunday highlighted this (in a sense) by discussing the supremacy and sufficiency of Christ. The resurrection is beautiful not because it brings an end to conflict between people, but because it brings people into right communion with the one, true, living God, and only then does it transform people from the inside out! This is the most beautiful realization - the burden of peacemaking does not fall to me, but it falls to God himself, and it is a burden he has already taken up and carried!
Peacemaking is so much easier when I realize that it is something that has already been accomplished, and is being made manifest entirely apart from my broken heart or my feeble effort. I must rest in God, and allow Him to do the heavy lifting.
Which He does with gladness.
Amidst all this craziness, reading, and work, I'm trying to be "peaceful" myself. It's a tad overwhelming.
And I'm finding that it's far too easy to find myself trapped in a world where peace is the highest good. Where peace is the ultimate thing that I'm working for. Where my soul and my heart breaks for violence and anger because of the hurt that it causes, because of the people that it affects, and because of the stories it leaves in its wake.
But that's not the only reason violence and conflict should break me. I'm loosing my eternal, Kingdom perspective. It's an easy thing to do in this city, but that doesn't make it any more excusable, or any less devastating when you realize it's happening to you. I've turned peace into an idol - something that I hold as better than the goodness of God himself, something better than the presence of Christ in my life, than the indwelling of the Spirit in my soul, than the hope I have in heaven - not a hope of peace but a hope of God Almighty, perfect and holy.
This new kingdom includes peace, yes. Revelation 21:4 offers the promise of a new world, in which the "former things" have passed away. Isaiah, in chapter 9, tells us that Jesus is the "Prince of Peace", among other things. The character of Christ radiates peace, rules over peace, is manifest in peace, and advances peace. The Bible talks about peace a LOT - in fact, all of the New Testament epistles except one (1 John) mention peace and call the believers to it. Clearly it's important.
But (at the risk of sounding too "new-age-y"), the Bible is more concerned with "inner" peace than with worldly peace. When the Bible talks about peace, more often than not, it's referring to a peace with God. This is the most important kind of peace. This is a peace only achieved through the death and resurrection of Christ! Apart from Him, peace is impossible. And in Him is a peace that "surpasses all understanding" (Phil 4:7). Without Him, external peace is useless. This is the mantra (one of many) that I have been preaching to myself as of late. I have found myself more often than not puling out my Bible in class to examine what Scripture tells me about the world, and about my place in it. And what is clear is that my mission is to love people well. Nothing else. It is not my job to resolve the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, or to be some great negotiator. It's not even my job to be able to name the head of every nation in the world, or explain how globalized business dynamics are going to dominate the evolution of state relations for the next twenty years.
My job is two-fold: Love God. Love people. That's it.
I can only spread peace by firmly being grounded on my own peace with God, a bridge that was accomplished only through the cross and empty tomb. Even our sermon on Sunday highlighted this (in a sense) by discussing the supremacy and sufficiency of Christ. The resurrection is beautiful not because it brings an end to conflict between people, but because it brings people into right communion with the one, true, living God, and only then does it transform people from the inside out! This is the most beautiful realization - the burden of peacemaking does not fall to me, but it falls to God himself, and it is a burden he has already taken up and carried!
Peacemaking is so much easier when I realize that it is something that has already been accomplished, and is being made manifest entirely apart from my broken heart or my feeble effort. I must rest in God, and allow Him to do the heavy lifting.
Which He does with gladness.
Monday, October 1
Perpetual Chaos and Beautiful People
When I planned out this summer, it didn't sound quite so overwhelming. Granted, I didn't really plan half of what happened, and the other half I didn't really think about. It sounded like an epic adventure that I'd read about from some well-travelled author, or something that would go on my bucket list but never be achieved.
Let's just call it what it is: I'm a nomad, by nature. I'm someone who doesn't really settle in, who doesn't nest, and who has spent the better part of her adult life running away from roots rather than putting them down. It's something God is working on in my heart.
But this summer, He graciously allowed me to indulge my desires to run rampant around this beautiful globe and play like a kid in a sandbox! Not only did He allow it, but He actively orchestrated it without me even realizing it was happening! And what a joy it was to see His work being actively and wholeheartedly pursued around the globe, in ways I never thought I'd get to see. My God is up to something in the hearts of so many people, He is working mightily in so many places - and everywhere, He is the same! I have been reminded of how incredibly, faithfully consistent my God is. His hesed love, his covenant with his people - how it is being worked out everywhere in this world!
Only now, nearly 2 months after returning from my latest trip, am I finally able to step back and look at the last 5 months as a whole. I spent so much time getting ready to travel or processing each trip, that I wasn't able to step back and see the whole thing until recently. I traveled from the West to East coast of this country (~3200 miles and 12 states), to 2 countries in the Caribbean and one in Central Asia. Everywhere I went, I saw the beauty of God's character, the majesty of His work, and the love of His people manifested in new and bright and breathtaking ways. I'm so thankful for the brothers and sisters who prayed relentlessly for each trip, for the the family who funded much of it, for the friends who were able to accompany me, and the new friendships formed.
Now, it's all catching up with me. The exhaustion. The processing. The sitting still. The Lord has taken this season of indulgence and used it to bring me into a season of challenges. It's just one of those times when I have to fight for everything. I am mourning, learning, re-evaluating, seeing sins, and learning about service. It's a hard season. But a good one. It is a season of complete and utter dependence on the Lord of creation.
This is a season I could not survive, however, without my dear brothers and sisters in Christ. The ways God is working on my heart are profound and beautiful - I am learning to trust people, to open up to people, to love and serve those around me, and to be loved and served. I am more thankful than ever that the Lord has redeemed not only me as an individual, but his whole Bride. I could not persevere through this without their support and love.
And I am abundantly thankful that He knows my heart so well, that he could orchestrate such a wonderfully delightful summer, and simultaneously give me the best and most supportive church family to come home to.
Let's just call it what it is: I'm a nomad, by nature. I'm someone who doesn't really settle in, who doesn't nest, and who has spent the better part of her adult life running away from roots rather than putting them down. It's something God is working on in my heart.
But this summer, He graciously allowed me to indulge my desires to run rampant around this beautiful globe and play like a kid in a sandbox! Not only did He allow it, but He actively orchestrated it without me even realizing it was happening! And what a joy it was to see His work being actively and wholeheartedly pursued around the globe, in ways I never thought I'd get to see. My God is up to something in the hearts of so many people, He is working mightily in so many places - and everywhere, He is the same! I have been reminded of how incredibly, faithfully consistent my God is. His hesed love, his covenant with his people - how it is being worked out everywhere in this world!
Only now, nearly 2 months after returning from my latest trip, am I finally able to step back and look at the last 5 months as a whole. I spent so much time getting ready to travel or processing each trip, that I wasn't able to step back and see the whole thing until recently. I traveled from the West to East coast of this country (~3200 miles and 12 states), to 2 countries in the Caribbean and one in Central Asia. Everywhere I went, I saw the beauty of God's character, the majesty of His work, and the love of His people manifested in new and bright and breathtaking ways. I'm so thankful for the brothers and sisters who prayed relentlessly for each trip, for the the family who funded much of it, for the friends who were able to accompany me, and the new friendships formed.
Now, it's all catching up with me. The exhaustion. The processing. The sitting still. The Lord has taken this season of indulgence and used it to bring me into a season of challenges. It's just one of those times when I have to fight for everything. I am mourning, learning, re-evaluating, seeing sins, and learning about service. It's a hard season. But a good one. It is a season of complete and utter dependence on the Lord of creation.
This is a season I could not survive, however, without my dear brothers and sisters in Christ. The ways God is working on my heart are profound and beautiful - I am learning to trust people, to open up to people, to love and serve those around me, and to be loved and served. I am more thankful than ever that the Lord has redeemed not only me as an individual, but his whole Bride. I could not persevere through this without their support and love.
And I am abundantly thankful that He knows my heart so well, that he could orchestrate such a wonderfully delightful summer, and simultaneously give me the best and most supportive church family to come home to.
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