The heart of the matter...

Home. That word has new meaning for me after our experience on "The Justice Tour" this past weekend. Last night I was back at home with my family. As we were finishing our supper of Gordon's fish fillets and fresh veggies, I noticed our two year olds' top lip was swollen to three times it's normal size. Fearing a life threatening, allergic reaction, I scooped her up, rushed to the van, and drove (our minivan) like a Nascar driver (I can dream, can't I?) to the nearest hospital. Since we were already in the hospital's computer system, we were processed quickly. Our valid insurance meant that I didn't have to worry about the treatment options or diagnosis; we were covered. Throughout the ordeal I was treated with the respect a white, middle class, well-spoken, middle aged, adult male is given. I didn't have to worry about understanding the medical personnel or them understanding me. I didn't have to worry about blatant or implied racism. As i wandered the halls of the emergency area to keep my daughter entertained, no one told me to go back to the exam room. It was all rather pleasant. I didn't even have to cover my co-pay, "we'll just bill you if anything is due," I was told with a smile. We were back home within four hours of leaving for the hospital, returning to our 5 bedroom, 5.5 bath home without having to worry about having light or heat inside, as all of our utility bills are paid.

Home has a new meaning for me. As I drifted off to sleep in my bed, the green light on our home alarm system let me know that we were safe from intruders and fire. Home - my children and wife were all tucked into bed, nightlights keeping the boogie man away (as well as those who buy and sell children the age of my three to be used as sex objects). Home - where we thank God for our food and a good night's sleep and our wonderful family that includes a mom and a dad. As I drifted into a restful slumber I didn't venture a thought for those who were sleeping in shelters, or in the cold, dark night, or in the terrifying homes of their "owners" (who use their tiny bodies as toys or sell them to other men, hungry with perverted desire).

As I woke up this morning I knew I could call into work and tell them I'd be taking the day off to spend with my daughter without fear of losing that job. I take so much for granted in my comfortable life! As the day has gone on I have tried to process my experiences in Atlanta and Athens this past weekend in the attempt to make them "learning experiences" instead of just experiences devoid of any changes in my life. Driving to church tonight I was talking with my son about how most of the world does not have the same concept of "normal" that we have. I told him that for most people in the world our home would be viewed as a mansion and our possessions as luxuries. We talked a bit about how unfair it was that US Americans consume so much of the world's goods and resources, leaving many people in the world without enough to survive. I then asked him what he thought we should do about it as a family. He said,

"What do you mean, Dad? I don't want to do anything if it would mean that I'd have to change what I have. I like my life just like it is!"

And that is the heart of the matter, isn't it? That statement sums up what most of us in the United States think and feel. "from the mouths of babes" - he nailed it - maybe we should print that on our mission trip t-shirts or those we wear down to our volunteer one day a month at the homeless shelter. Oh, we'll give a dollar here and there. We'll buy gifts for an "angel child" at Christmas or stuff a shoe box with trinkets that we drop off at a church to be loaded onto a ship and taken half way around the world. We'll marvel at the pictures when we see them on publicity flyers the following year. But then we are done; we are satisfied. We then return to our homes, to our comfortable lives without a second thought for those who are home-less, comfort-less. And as I write this tonight I'm tempted to return to ignorance. It sure is easier. But now I not only have disturbing pictures in my head, I have names that go with those images. Not only do I have names to go with the images, I have the stories of the some of those I have met. Images, names, and stories that represent people whose "normal" is very different than my own.

But most of all what changes everything for me is that I've been hearing slight echoes coming from the recesses of my mind. The sounds are growing stronger all the time. I can make out words, distant calls in a language I used to know. My soul seems drawn to the words, though my consciousness tries to ignore them. In my waking hours I try to push the words down, attempting to quiet the building cacophony that is flooding the back of my mind. It’s getting harder to ignore, harder to mute, harder to silence. The words join with the images, with the names, with the stories, making a living, breathing, screaming, crying, photo gallery that disturbs my conscience, invades my habits, and irritates my normal, comfortable life.

As I turn my attention toward the sounds, the squelch dims. Beneath the din, I hear clearly a voice that is at once disturbing, yet comforting. I hear a voice crying beneath, around, through, and on behalf of the images, names, and stories. I hear a call I cannot deny; I cannot ignore it any longer:

It calls for justice.

It pleads for mercy.

It cries for me to help those who cannot help themselves.

It begs for me to do what I can do.

But that’s not all – the voice demands that I join the chorus, that I too join the din, that I lend my weak meager utterances to the choir. And maybe then one more person will not be able to push aside the noise, the images, that names, the stories. Can you hear the voice? It's growing louder, its screaming now:

The LORD works righteousness and justice for all the oppressed (Ps 103:6).

The righteous care about justice for the poor, but the wicked have no such concern (Pr 29:7).

Surely the arm of the LORD is not too short to save, nor his ear too dull to hear. But your iniquities have separated you from your God; your sins have hidden his face from you, so that he will not hear. For your hands are stained with blood, your fingers with guilt. Your lips have spoken lies, and your tongue mutters wicked things. No one calls for justice; no one pleads his case with integrity. They rely on empty arguments and speak lies; they conceive trouble and give birth to evil. The way of peace they do not know; there is no justice in their paths. They have turned them into crooked roads; no one who walks in them will know peace. So justice is far from us, and righteousness does not reach us. We look for light, but all is darkness; for brightness, but we walk in deep shadows (Is 59:1-4; 8-9).

O house of David, this is what the LORD says: "Administer justice every morning; rescue from the hand of his oppressor the one who has been robbed, or my wrath will break out and burn like fire because of the evil you have done— burn with no one to quench it” (Jer 21:12).

The people of the land practice extortion and commit robbery; they oppress the poor and needy and mistreat the alien, denying them justice (Ez 22:29).

They trample on the heads of the poor as upon the dust of the ground and deny justice to the oppressed. Father and son use the same girl and so profane my holy name (Amos 2:7).

“So I will come near to you for judgment. I will be quick to testify against sorcerers, adulterers and perjurers, against those who defraud laborers of their wages, who oppress the widows and the fatherless, and deprive aliens of justice, but do not fear me,” says the LORD Almighty (Mal 3:5)!

Woe to you Pharisees, because you give God a tenth of your mint, rue and all other kinds of garden herbs, but you neglect justice and the love of God. You should have practiced the latter without leaving the former undone (Luke 11:42).

Oh God, keep the images-names-stories and Your words ever before me, locked in my vision, to remind me of those “others” who have needs. God, help me to see the “stuff” I don't need, so I can make life-changes in order to alleviate some suffering, pain, and injustice in my world. Let me join the chorus; let me shout with you:

But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream! (Amos 5:24)

Yes, Lord, Home has new meaning for me - I can't plead ignorance anymore; I now understand that MY inaction, MY inattention, and MY normal-American greed, results in others (all who have images, names, and stories) not having what they need to survive. Yes, Lord, I am depriving men, women and children - some of whom I have met - of homes, of food, of clothing, of...life. My actions and inactions are also keeping some of these same men, women and children, from knowing and loving you. If it is possible, forgive me Lord. If it is possible, forgive US Lord. Annoy us with your words, with your cries, with your pleads to care for those who cannot care for themselves because of our action and inaction!

Face to face with shocking reality

"Do you know any homeless people?, Jonathan asked, taking a break from holding my hands and running up my legs, stomach, and chest before kicking his feet over his head, flipping backwards, landing solidly back on his feet. "Why, yes I do! I just talked to them yesterday!"

This week I have been reminded of the simple, yet profound truth that when we meet someone and share our life with theirs, we change: our perspectives change, our stereotypes change, and our ideas about truth and reality change! People want to be known. People want to be needed. The combination of those two ideas creates a perfect relationship - we can give of ourselves in time and resources to help those who need to be loved and touched.

Before this week I could not have said that I know a homeless person, yet I have stepped over or around so many of them. No, I'm not perfect. Yesterday, I still felt those same feelings of fear when I had the opportunity to meet someone in at Olympic Park whom I assumed was homeless. However, when we turned the corner I saw two guys we had met the day before. We had spent time with these guys, heard their stories, and connected on some mystical level. It was really a joy to see then and to hear the progress they had made that day in their quests towards getting "out of the system," out of the shelters, and back on their feet. Several in our group went to see these two guys this morning after we learned where they were going to be. Lives touching lives through the love of Jesus - that is the best answer I have found to most of the justice problems we saw this weekend.

"Everyone has a name: everyone has a story", remarked one of our students after a day of getting to know guests at one of the social agencies with which we worked. That says it all. For our group they are not "homeless" anymore - they are Samuel, John, Horis, Carlos, and many others - men, women and children - all who have names and stories!

For what do I pray?

Our last study of the day, part 4 in "Get Uncomfortable", a Threads study by Todd Phillips, raises an interesting question about the focus and purpose of our faith as evidenced in our prayers. Phillips writes that we should pray specific, larger-than-life prayers that call on God to be God and do the impossible. "You hate injustice and oppression and the abuse of power. So these are my prayers: I ask You-because I believe in who You are and what You can do-save everyone. Stop the suffering. Lead us out to do the things that You have prepared for us to do. God, here I am, send me. Change the world through me and others like me" (p. 67). He goes on to ask, "Are we praying God-sized prayers, or are we just asking God to fix the things in our lives that make us uncomfortable? Have we lost that sense of wonder and certainty about God that a 4-year-old might have? Are we praying for big things that only God can do" (p. 67)?

We are learning to recapture this sense of wonder in what God can do - even through our small efforts God can use our tiny offerings to do amazing things FOR others and IN us! It is so fun to watch these students learn the ways God wants to work and will work through and in us if we but take a tiny, prayerful step towards justice and social action.

Spring Break '08

• I knew almost nothing about the problems of human trafficking - until I watched the movie,"Trade" with a rag tag group of students and interested community folk; now I'm horrified, angered, and want justice
• I was numbed by the horrors of children forced or coerced into prostitution in Atlanta - until I learned many were the age of my pre-teen daughter, now my emotions are raw with anger and deep sadness
• I was overwhelmed by the problems of the "homeless" in Atlanta and Athens - until I met John, David, and so many others, who I discovered are very much like me, save they have to fight to live each day
• I knew Atlanta was undergoing economic expansion by rejuvenating many downtown areas - now I know that many of the changes are systematically drive out those who suffer under conditions of poverty, creating many more people who must now live on the streets
• I was angered by the many inner city children who commit crimes - now I understand they are "created" by the cycle of poverty into which they were born
• I thought poverty was created by "others" - now I know that I too am to blame by my actions and inactions
• I thought that all efforts to alleviate poverty and injustice were the same - now I know that some ministries put a band aid on symptoms while hurting the spirits of those that need to be treated humanely
• I was taught that the Bible was primarily "God's love letter to me - now I know that the Bible cries out for justice for the "least of these" more than 2200 times, yet this is the subject taught, written about and spoken of the least in most circles of Christians
• I came to Atlanta with a small band of students who love God - I'm leaving Atlanta with a small group of students who love God and are passionate about justice

Where is the justice....

I am in Atlanta for a few days with a group of students. UGA is out next week for Spring Break. Many students headed to the beach, to New York, home, or some other spot to relax, work, or chill from school. We came to Atlanta seeking to see and understand some of the injustice in the world. Tonight we joined a group of fellow seekers to view the movie "Trade." I don't even know how to describe the movie. As we were told by an off duty police officer who was guarding the parking lot while we watched the movie: "that's a serious movie - not a popcorn movie - it's really heavy!" Here's the synopsis from Rotten Tomatoes (http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/trade/#synopsis):

At once soft-hearted and hard-edged, TRADE provides a compassionate look at an ugly world. In Mexico City, men kidnap13-year-old Adriana (Paulina Gaitan) with the intent of selling her virginity to the highest bidder. Young Polish beauty Veronica (Alicja Bachleda) is held captive by the same men, and they threaten her young son across the ocean. As the criminals mistreat their victims, Veronica is Adriana's only solace as she is taken farther and farther away from home. Meanwhile, Adriana's older brother, Jorge (Cesar Ramos), begins to track his sister across the Mexican border into Texas and through the United States. On his mission, he runs into a Texas cop named Ray (Kevin Kline) who agrees to help him without ever really saying why. TRADE isn't escapist fare: it's a socially conscious film that doesn't flinch from the most painful of details about the sex trade. There's rape, pedophilia, and suicide, and the film doesn't look away or glance over the horrors. This is German director Marco Kreuzpainter's first film on these shores, but he works like an assured veteran. After working for decades in the film industry, Kline is often most highly praised for his work in comedies such as DAVE and A FISH CALLED WANDA, but he's quite adept in this serious drama. Young actors Ramos and Gaitan are making their major feature debut with TRADE, but they both communicate the fear and frustration of their characters with remarkable skill.

The movie was truly disturbing. At times I could not even watch.... Our goal and prayer this weekend is that we will be disturbed - disturbed out of our middle class, Christian-bubble of comfort to actually see the issues and people facing injustice all around us. As one of our students said tonight as we talked after the film, "it's much too easy for us to put in our ear buds, turn on our iPod to the latest worship music, and walk to our next class without ever noticing the people on the way." I'd add to that; often we, as Christians, become so busy with "good" activities in our churches and small groups that we don't have time to notice those around us that are facing issues of injustice - some in our very neighborhoods and schools. Child abuse is rampant - among "good Christian people" too. The sex trade is supported by people just like our neighbors. And we don't see any of it. We are blinded by our own needs, our own lives, our own Churches, out own children, our own worries.

"God, disturb me this week. Show me the injustice in my small piece of the world. Help me to see with your eyes.... I pray you will be disturbed this week too. It's only when our feathers are ruffled that we will notice there are millions who spend their lives in discomfort as they live with the injustices we ignore through our busyness".