There's been a lot of talk the past couple of weeks about the Philippines, hasn't there? From the devastating earthquake a few weeks ago to this past weekend's destructive typhoon, it seems that the people of these islands are not getting a break. They've faced so many trials. It's been almost too much to watch!
As I've caught up on the news and heard reports from the Feed The Children staff in the Philippines (many who have lost everything in one of these major events!), my mind has quickly gone back to the experience I shared in this country almost exactly a year ago last year.
On November 5th, I blogged this:
As I write this I find myself on a boat heading from Bohol back to Cebu (Philippines) . . . We just met a group of families on a remote island who pulled their resources together to begin a village savings and loan– where their was no bank to help give the financial resources to move the community forward.
During our visit, our delegation was allowed to observe, a shareholders meeting, a weekly occurrence, where loans were given and dividends were paid back to share holders. We learned that 10% of the money made in the project goes back to assist the children in the community. Parents said, “We want a better life for kids. We know that begins with us being good stewards of our own resources. We want to be able to do this ourselves.” Over the past year this community (where it is not commonplace to have toilets in the house or more than one pair of shoes per person) has saved over $3,500 US to reinvest in their children’s school. . . .
For now, this is what I know: most of the world is not as it seems to us from our lens of American privilege. The “have-nots” people are not less than human. Change CAN happen as resources and strong leadership are given to make it possible.
For me, I am learning that life can no longer be about “that trip” or “out there” but somehow we must find a way to integrate life in such a way that all of life is about being a member of the human family that is full of challenges, yes, but hope. We must do what we can to serve wherever we find ourselves. We must never think our privilege as an honor, but an opportunity to be in a larger community.
I've thought about these reflections again recently, especially as so many organizations are on the ground now in the Philippines seeking to help those in need.
I think it's wonderful when the world comes to the aid of the vulnerable. Some crises are indeed so bad that we need help that must come from those with more resources than we have. And the commercial in me would like to tell you to give (if you feel so compelled) to Feed The Children.
But what bothers me about the news coverage and talk of the Philippines these days is it is so easily turned into an "us vs. them" appeal.
Because what is true is this: the people of the Philippines are strong. They are resilient. They will take care of each other with whatever resources they've got. And if we choose to help them (and I hope we all will), it is good to give from the perspective of these are my brothers and sisters in need NOT those poor and sad people out there.
We've got teachers who embody saving, sharing and giving all over the world. And many of those are found in the Philippines. It's our job not only to share but to learn.
Kenya mall bombing dead toll reaches 60
7.2 Earthquake hits in Cebu, Philippines
Malawi president sacks cabinet over corruption scandal
If you are like me, news headlines especially those from far away so easily go in one ear and out the other. We might have a moment when our heart rises in compassion or pity or the feeling of "thank God that isn't me." But then we move on. We get back to life that is right in front of our faces. Even if we want to, it is hard to feel connection to events happening completely outside our realm of experience.
But since I began connecting my life and ministerial calling to the international work of Feed The Children, watching the news is an entirely new experience.
When I read news headlines like those written above, I pause (not because I'm suddenly holier) but because I've come to see these stories as gifts to keep up with my friends and the hardships of their lives.
Over the past couple of months I've thought a lot about these things:
I've worried about my friends in Kenya-- wondering if any of the FTC staff was near the mall where the shooting began. Last month, I looked at a lot of maps of Nairobi trying to figure out how close the Westgate Mall was to FTC headquarters there (and it was very close). I talked regularly by email with my friend Seintje about the three days of mourning in the country.
I've had a lot of questions about my friends in the Philippines-- wondering how many houses of our staff there were destroyed and what the rebuilding effort might need in the future. Just this week, I've waited for daily updates from my friend, Becbec who runs FTC operations there.
I've prayed for my friends in Malawi-- hoping that they are feeling hopeful about their leaders and future as a nation. I've thought a lot about my friends who told me last year when we visited how difficult the oil crisis was on their livelihood.
Feed The Children has given me so many gifts of connection with a global community. Most of all I am glad that it has helped me be more aware.
And though my US friends might tire of me texting them in crisis mode because of an earthquake a continent away, I am so thankful that the gifts of friendship and shared work has gotten me out of the closet of apathy-- a least in a couple more corners of the world.
I want to think as Henry Miller has said: "The aim of life is to live, and to live means to be aware, joyously, drunkenly, serenely, divinely aware."
I also hope that by following this blog, I live out my responsiblity to help make you as readers just a little more aware too. We live in a vast world with brothers and sisters not only near but far away too.
Mark 12:38-44
There are weeks when I have scripture texts before me and I wonder as I prepare what the writer of the text was smoking (for I just can't figure out the point) and there are times I think I have absolutely no experience with the implied message of the text and feel so inadequate to preach. How God can use me to speak a word to you in weeks like this? I just don't know.
But then there are some special weeks like this one, where I feel God must have thought I was the one who really needed to learn something. For, I've seen and experienced a version of this text all week-long.
If there is ever any doubt that I learn as much from writing sermons as I do in giving them or you do in hearing them, then I have proof. Mark 12 was mine to learn from this week.
And this is our particular text that I want us to stick closely to this morning: Jesus is nearing the end of his life, on his way to Jerusalem. And on his way, he's using every teachable moment possible to help his disciples see what the kingdom of God looks like. Not only did the disciples need to be prepared for what was to come in his death, but they needed guidance as to what kingdom living looked like on earth in real time.
Let's look closely at what Jesus says to his disciples and those bystanders in ear-shy beginning in verse 38. “Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honor at banquets! They devour widows’ houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation.”
Obviously, Jesus and the religious scribes were obviously working from two different visions of what made their life count with lasting value.
The scribes wanted to do works to be seen and to be important among the who's who of society. And, to achieve these goals, the scribes were known to take from those in the community who were without means to defend themselves, namely the widows. Specifically they were known to "devour them" a word used in scripture only in cases of extreme separation from what is good and what is evil.
Contrary, Jesus cared nothing for this kind of recognition or power. In fact he condemned it. He had already said in Mark chapter 10, "and the last shall be first and the first shall be last." Things in the kingdom of God were not like the ways of the scribes. In Jesus' vision of the world, room was always made at the table for one more, no matter the rank, class or belief system. According to Jesus, a life that God honored always included love of neighbor.
As many of you know, Kevin and I spent the last week on a mission delegation to the Philippines as part of Kevin's job with Feed The Children. It was an experience that challenged us on many fronts as to what love of neighbor looks like.
And over the past 8 days, we held babies. We fed school children who eagerly anticipated their portion of rice and sweet potatoes. We danced with women (yes, proving that white women can shake with the best of them). We talked to school children about staying in school and studying hard. We traveled long hours by plane, boat, van, and taxi to see with our eyes what we didn't know before we left the comfort of our home in Northern Virginia.
We spent several days in the capital city of Manila, a city over 12 million people.
In Manila, everything you could possibly need or want as a Westerner is here. You could start your day off with Starbucks (which you know Kevin did, of course). You could go to the mall and buy a new outfit at Old Navy or body wash at The Body Shop. You could dine at Wendy’s or Burger King. Folks in the business district of downtown can be seen carrying Prada purses or wearing Jimmy Choo stilettos. Folks at the airport all talk on the latest IPhone 5.
But, as with most major urban centers, it is not the whole story.
The urban poor, living in shanties in the slums are in this city only a few km from the high rises of folks drinking the finest coffee and wine. For these slum dwellers, life is difficult and assistance is needed from NGOs for basic survival.
The necessity of organizations like Feed The Children comes into play because government social services (which we expect in the US as a given) are limited, if existent at all. Children are malnourished and drop out of school. Children go unsupervised and play in garbage dumbing grounds. Children grow up without dreams of ever leaving the community in which they were born.
In these experiences we learned much. But most of all this--
There are far more widows in the modern world than rich scribes and Pharisees.
As much as the religious zealots of our time make the headlines on a daily basis especially as they have over the last year of our election cycle . . .
We are a world of "widows."
And by widows, I don't necessarily mean just widows from the technical definition --women who are on their own because their husband has deceased.
But I mean "widows" in the broader sense. For example, mothers and fathers who have more children than they can afford to take care of. Or, these are babies who come from the womb malnourished because their mothers didn't receive the proper prenatal care. These are families who make the choice to live in garbage dumps because they can make $2 a day in the recycling sorting business instead of no income at all in somewhere less smelly.
Throughout the Philippines, I met these "widows" this week ... or otherwise known as the slum dwellers, the down and out or the working poor.
And in meeting them, I realized that such is not a situation in the Philippines, but one that is all over the world...
And so this is what I really want to say: the Mark lection is not some isolated occurrence without application to the characters we have among us today. We live in a global community among the rich and the religiously arrogant. And we live in a world of the incredibly poor and destitute.
(Though such is not something that we like to think about very much, if at all. It is of course much easier to go about our lives pretending all is well in who-vile or whatever it is that we call where we live.)
Yet most interpretations of this passage or sermons you've heard for that matter seek to guilt us into believing our calling as Christians is to be more like the widow. For we read in verse 42 and following that when it came to offering time in the nearby temple: "a poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny . . . out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.” And so, like her, we too must give more!
(So shall I take a special offering now? Will the ushers come forward . .. Ok, just kidding.)
It's inspirational isn't it? Giving beyond our means. Giving till it hurts. Giving all we have even if it means our own personal suffering. But last time I checked the Bible was not an inspirational book, but one full of challenges to our societal norms.
And so this morning, I am not going to tell you to be more like the widow. For how much you give and how you give, comes out of your own life circumstances and spiritual journey. Your giving practices are a conversation you must have and keep having with your Maker.
But what I am going to ask you to do is to see the world as it really is-- not to glorify poverty but to lament with me for a moment that we live in a world where those with few resources have to carry the responsibility of giving what they do not have so that the rest of us can learn what loving neighbor is all about.
Professor David Lose of Luther Seminary asks us all this pointed question: "Are we wrongfully accepting the gifts of those who are giving too much of their income while we praise, and give influence to, those who give greater sums but hardly feel the impact of their gifts?"
Humm.
While Kevin and I were spending time on Wednesday of this week, dedicating the new wing of a school that Feed The Children gave to an impoverished community outside of Manila, our schedule included some time in the community from which the children came. Namely the slums.
I was prepared for anything I thought but little did I know what was in store.
Remember this was the slums... But when the community heard Feed The Children was coming, they made our group quick guests of honor. A tent was found to give us shade (not sure where it came from). Plastic chairs were brought from individual homes to make sure we had somewhere to sit. A banner of welcome made from bedroom sheets hung over our seats of welcome. The town council chair said to us "We don't get visitors often. We wanted you to feel special."
And special we felt as kids and mothers alike performed for us cultural Filipino dances and modern ones too, sang solos and prayed blessing prayers over us. Kids even without shoes put on their best outfits for the performance.
At one point during the program, Kevin leaned over to me and said, “I can't imagine what amount of work this took to put our visit on like this."
"Yeah, I know."
"Look up Elizabeth, and see those decorations across the tent. Those are colored plastic grocery bags filled with air have become such a colorful and resourceful expression of their welcome to us. . . . Folks with so little have given us everything, all they have."
Like the widow with her mite, our team was given some of the most pure expressions of love and hospitality that can be experienced in our world. We who came from so much-- people who could have parties every week and afford more than blown up plastic bags for decorations-- were given all that these people had.
We, oh citizens of this great nation , of the United States of America. I am here to say that in this gospel reading we play the role of the scribes. There's just no way to get around it. We are the ones who have left the poor behind.
No matter if we find ourselves in the middle of the Filipino slums or right here on the Plaza in Reston, we are contributors to the systems in this world that pretend to give but indeed take and take some more.
We pretend to be people who care for social justice but we buy cheap clothes and jewelry from sweat shops in developing countries where workers earn pennies an hour.
We pretend to be great givers to church, civic groups and other non-profits, but our end of the year giving reflects more distaste for federal taxes and less about giving and receiving one another abundantly.
We pretend to give sacrificial gifts to loved ones during the holidays but what we really are doing is re-gifting stuff we didn't like from last year.
Today's sermon is not meant to make us feel guilty for what we have or what we don't give away. But simply to tell us the truth of who we are. When it comes to giving as Jesus showed us how and gave to us, we are clueless.
But thanks be to God that there is always good news. We can live a life that counts for the good of all people.
Later on in the same day (that we visited the slums), Kevin and I made a trek up a very tall hill to visit another family. I was grumbling because I had flip-flops on and didn’t quite think I’d be able to make it the whole way. But somehow, we arrived at a stopping spot. There we were introduced to a mother of one child who struggles to have food to give to her daughter. Though her husband works in factory that sends goods to America—figurines, in fact that we will probably see on our shelves during the holidays, she hardly has enough rice or meat in any given day not to go hungry.
As Kevin and I listened to her story of pain, and we both struggled not to cry (unsuccessfully of course). Why did the rains of blessing fall on us but not her, we wondered, As we left, I stopped the camera crew. “Where’s the hope?” We have to give them hope. We didn't give that family any hope in the interview. (We learned that later the Feed the Children staff would be bringing them food for the next week).
And so, we always must have hope. We interact with one another in hope. And here is yours:
If we are ready to see the world as God sees it . . . If we are ready to live more of our days with the kind of generosity that is not taking too much or too less . . . If we are ready to accept our Pharisee status and move on to what God has prepared for us, our Lord is ready to teach us. I’ll say it again, the Lord is ready to teach us.
All we have to do is ask.
AMEN
Growing up in evangelical culture of the southern part of the United States, I learned a key component of strong Christian faith was the annual practice of going on mission trips.
Based on the Great Commission of Acts 1:8, we'd be challenged by youth pastors to make a service trip each summer, a priority in our schedules. While few would be excited about local mission projects in the inner city of our own city, for example, everyone would consider going somewhere, especially if it was a cool locale with a pool.
The farther away the holier, of course, but usually we could not afford more than an 7-8 hours drive away in one of those rented Greyhound buses. And the more poverty or the greater the population of the "heathen" (like Buddhists, atheists, etc) the more worthwhile too.
Many of my peers at church loved these trips, like I did. They formed the the young adults we were becoming without us truly understanding it at the time. We began to get a glimpse of the world outside the one created for us by our parents and surroundings. We grew in the depth of our relationship with Jesus. All of this is good. So I don't want sound overly judgmental as I continue . . .
But here is the thing: the results were typical and short lived.
We felt moved by whatever "have nots" we encountered, feeling sorry for our blessings waiting for us back at home. But secretly craving (or not so secretly) our own beds and a hot shower pronto.
We cried on the last day of the trip, sad to leave our new friends, vowing to keep in touch. But losing the contact info page before we got off the bus.
We promised to come home and give away our clothes or shoes that we really didn't need, only to go shopping at the mall the next weekend.
And so mission trips became just that, a trip -- something fun to do with our peers in the summer that left our parents feeling good about the children they'd raised. We weren't as selfish as the rest. And we had the pictures to prove it.
So here I am in my early 30s having gone on two of these major "missions" trips as a part of my real life the past two months, not some summer jolly ride out of town. And the funny thing is, I find myself expressing some of the same emotions I might have uttered in the 9th or 10th grade when we lodged in inner city Philadelphia.
"The spirit of the Filipino people moved me to tears."
"The poverty was overwhelming to my eyes."
"I want to find a way to make my life simpler, to give more."
But this time, as a grown up, with a long term commitment to an organization that deeply cares about making changes in communities of need, I want things to be different. I want my life to reflect the stories of great need that I have been blessed to see personally. I want this week to not merely be "another" mission trip but just a part of a lifestyle.
How this happens, I still am not sure. But at least for today, I acknowledge the great arrogance and temptation of just another mission trip kind of faith. And hope this season of life will be about learning a new path.
For the past two nights, our crew has been stationed in the Philippine capital of Manila. It's a modern city reminding me a lot of New York or LA-- a city that doesn't seem to sleep that is resident of over 12 million people. Upon arrival, has been such a shock to our system after spending several days in some very rural areas (islands of less than 500 people for example), where folks are without running water and you take showers with buckets and bring your own toilet paper.
It's a country of contrasts because in Manilla, everything you could possibly need or want as a Westerner is here. You could start your day off with Starbucks or a Krispy Kreme donut. You could go to the mall and buy a new outfit at The Gap or Forever 21. You could dine for dinner at Pizza Hut or TGI Fridays. Folks in the business district of downtown can be seen carrying Guess purses or in designer stilettos. Folks at the airport all talk on IPhones.
But, as with most major urban centers, it is not the whole story.
It is a city of contrasts. The urban poor, living in shanties in the slums are in this city only a few km from the high rises of folks wearing Chanel perfume. For these slum dwellers, life is difficult and assistance is needed from NGOs for basic survival. The necessity of organizations like Feed The Children comes into play because government social services (which we expect in the US as a given) are limited, if existent at all. Children are malnourished and drop out of school. Children go unsupervised and play in garbage dumbing grounds. Children grow up without dreams of ever leaving the community in which they were born.
Furthermore, it is easy to go on trips like this and think this world of contrasts is a problem of a far away place. But it is a problem of my home land too.
America is a world of contrasts. For every luxury apartment in Manhattan, there are hollers in West Virginia. For every millionaire on Wall Street, there are thousands of single mother on welfare. For every child growing up entering college with bright eyes, there are multitudes inner city kids struggling to get their GED.
We are a rich nation with the poor among us. Like our Filipino friends, it is easy to ignore.
Even in counties like Fairfax Virginia where my church is located we also have a homeless problem, a large one in fact. Makeshift shelters are made every night in the woods with tents, tarps and sleeping bags around the corner from some very large shopping malls and 4,000 square feet houses.
Tonight at dinner, a Feed The Children staffer and I were trying to make sense of our experiences in this world of contrasts. "Why don't more people share?. . . Why doesn't the government do more about these problems? . . . How can the rich have poor literally in their backyard and do nothing?"
It's a frustrating place to be in thought-- to try to make sense of the senseless. The only comfort is to think that at least you are supporting an organization that is trying to do something. But then that is not always enough to satisfy the injustice.
All guilt, frustration or apathy put aside, if we are ever going to make changes, human changes to these worlds of contrasts then we have one important task before us. We must wake up and simply see it. The Philippines has given me new glasses.
At dusk last night, I walked through the slums of Cebu City, Philippines.
The invitation to walk through the slums at nightfall came after our delegation spent the afternoon at Pasil Elementary, where Feed The Children is highly revered. Last year the elementary got a new wing of state of the art classrooms with funding facilitated by FTC. Upon hearing of our visit as a delegation from the US, a program of celebration was planned. Songs, dances and opportunities to interact became a delightful stop for our group. The kids who got FTC scholarships to attend school sang to us in the program: "Thank you, thank you. We hope we make you proud. May you remember to pray for us and that the Spirit connects us all." I sat on the stage and cried.
I thought the emotion of the day couldn't be any more intense. But then there was . . . the slums . . . the place where the school kids live.
Though no slums virgin, the shock came over me quickly with the first step. It would be a sensory assault from the start.
Stepping through the maze of "houses" in order to get to the dock by the sea, several roosters running free nearly tackled me, pecking my feet. I saw a man going for the kill with a chicken-- I guess for his families' night's dinner. Passing by public toilets where the entire community showers, uses the toilet and gets their running water (after paying a fee of two pesos), the potency of the odor marked the spot. Next door to the "sanitation" center was a dwelling that burnt down in 1988 (we learned) that still housed a family even among the ashes and lopsided walls. I saw a mother chopping potatoes by candlelight there.
Further in, child after child was running free without supervision with tattered shirts, dirty faces, and shoeless. They stared with wide eyes as to why I would be there. Makeshift market stands selling shrimp and crab caught by fishermen slum dwellers earlier in the day, filled the concrete pavement. And no, there was no refrigeration to keep the seafood up to health code relegations. I wondered who would eat the shrimp and whether or not it would make them sick. I wondered who would treat the ills of these folks if they got sick. Anyone?
Yet, afterwards, Kevin said, "Now that was a scene out of a nightmare, wasn't it?" Funny thing was I was thinking the exact same thing.
Before all the mother worrying types out there get too concerned, let me tell you that Kevin and I weren't alone. Thank goodness, we had a guide, the local town council member for we surely would have gotten lost or had something stolen off our bodies if this woman's presence hadn't said "They're with me. I will take care of them." Our group stayed close to her and felt as safe as one can feel in a slum.
This is the part of this blog post where you might expect me to make meaning of what I saw and experienced. But I can't.
I am a wealthy white woman from the United States. But there are some members of my human family who live in the slums.
As I write this I find myself on a boat heading from Bohol back to Cebu (Philippines) and I stand in amazement of where life has taken me recently. Not only did I celebrate my 6th anniversary of ordination yesterday (wow what a ride as a reverend has been!), but in the past less than 60 days, Kevin and I have traveled to three countries in Asia and Africa in which Feed The Children serves. Our lives of late have felt a lot like a long mission trip. Tiring indeed but a lot of fun!
We've held babies. We've fed sick children. We've danced with women. We've talked to school children about nutrition and AIDS prevention. We've traveled long hours by plane, boat, van, and taxi to see with our eyes what we didn't know before we left the comfort of our home in Northern Virginia.
Over these past 60 days, we've seen the world from the perspective of what it really is like: mothers who work hard to give their kids a better life but as hard as they try they can't. Communities that take ownership for their prosperity, even though they have little resources. Houses that shouldn't house even one but are a refuge for many. And, children building friendship with their neighbors with makeshift and homemade ball, cars and soccer fields.
Yes, we've seen poverty of the material kind but we've also seen the huge accomplishments of those whom so much of the world has written off as part of the "third" or "developing" world.
Yesterday, for example, we met a group of families on a remote island who pulled their resources together to begin a village savings and loan-- where their was no bank to help give the financial resources to move the community forward. Feed The Children facilitated the beginning of this livelihood development project, but now takes a very hands off role in its day-to-day management. It is the community's leadership project to see through.
During our visit, our delegation was allowed to observe, a shareholders meeting, a weekly occurrence, where loans were given and dividends were paid back to share holders. Most impressive, we learned that 10% of the money made in the project goes back to assist the children in the community. Parents said, "We want a better life for kids. We know that begins with us being good stewards of our own resources. We want to be able to do this ourselves." Over the past year this community-- one where it is not commonplace to have toilets in the house or more than one pair of shoes per person-- has saved over $3,500 US to reinvest in their children's school.
Wonderfully surprising isn't it?
For now, this is what I know: most of the world is not as it seems to us from our lens of privilege in America. The "have-nots" people are not less than human. Change CAN happen as resources and strong leadership are given to make it possible.
I have always known that intellectually as all of you blog readers do too, I'm sure. But when you see it, when you see it with your own eyes in such frequent chunks as we have, you realize that life must change.
Life can no longer be about "that trip" or "out there" but somehow we must find a way to integrate life in such a way that all of life is about being a member of the human family that is full of challenges, yes, but hope. We must do what we can to serve wherever you find yourself. We must never think first of our privilege as an honor but an opportunity to be in a larger community.
It's such a tall order ahead... I see now why it would be easier to stay at home.
.
