Hunger

If eradicating hunger was easy, no one would be hungry.

Putting an end to hunger is not easy!

When we are asked to make a commitment to give of our time,

we are quick to point out that we must work to put food on our own tables.

We don’t have time to spare.

When we are asked to give financially,

we talk about how stretched we already feel.

We don’t have money to spare.

When we are asked to stretch, to sacrifice, to go the extra mile,

we say we give generously – but often we barely feel the pinch.

We are reluctant to do without.

When we are asked to pray, we say we will,

but with no names and faces to pray for we quickly lose sight of that promise.

We don’t know the hungry in our communities.

Too often we overlook the poverty in our communities,

seeing instead those who have more than we do.

Too often we are quick to point out the faults of the hungry,

wondering why they don’t get a (better) job or plant a garden

instead of watching TV all day.

Too often we see the problem of hunger and poverty

and either ignore it or decide that it is too big

for any one person to actually make a difference.

Too often we assume someone else will help since we don’t see how we can.

Putting an end to hunger is not easy!

If eradicating hunger was painless, no one would be hungry.

Jesus ate with sinners.

Jesus fed five thousand hungry people with five loaves and two fishes.

Jesus gave the woman at the well living water;

water that gushes up to eternal life.

Jesus broke bread with his disciples that last Passover,

saying “This is my body, given for you.”

Jesus taught us to follow his example;

to go and do likewise.

So why do we keep making excuses? Why do we keep pointing fingers? 

Why are we reluctant to give of our time and our money and our lives?

Because nothing about eradicating hunger is easy or painless.

But everything about putting an end to hunger is faithful to the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Looking For Hope

There is something about hope. It is always forward-looking, anticipating that things will not stay the way they are, that life will get easier, that there is more to our daily existence than what we see right now.  In hope we anticipate a day when our hearts will be filled with joy; we expect to meet Jesus.

Paul writes in Romans 4 of Abraham: “Hoping against hope, he believed that he would become ‘the father of many nations,’ according to what was said, ‘So numerous shall your descendants be.’ He did not weaken in faith when he considered his own body, which was already as good as dead... No distrust made him waver concerning the promise of God” (v. 18-20).

Abraham was almost one hundred years old and his wife, Sarah, was ninety and barren. And yet the promise of God filled him with hope – he would be the father of many nations.

Where did Abraham find that hope? Paul points to Abraham’s faith in the living God. The God of infinite possibility; the Father who raised Jesus from the dead (!); the God whose love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit; the Almighty One who promises that we have been justified through faith, freely given the peace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and obtained access to God’s abundant grace (see Romans 5:1-5).  

There’s something about hope. I saw it in the eyes of the children in Mexico. When we were in Huitzapula we traveled to a remote village – a mission of the already remote town of Huitzapula. When we got there we discovered that everyone had headed into town for the day, except these three children. While they were too shy to come over to us, we had brought fruit for the community.  We placed some in the grass for them to come get, and they received it gratefully.  

The church in this village had been destroyed in a storm, the few houses were in disrepair, the children had been left alone. At first glance the situation felt hopeless, but the people in these mountain villages radiated hope. In the other villages around Huitzapula, the moment we arrived the people left their work to stream to a common gathering place to praise God with us through song and prayer and reading and proclaiming God’s word. It was beautiful. Astonishing. So different from here.

Zimbabwe was no different. Even the ZOE orphans who had just entered the program radiated hope. The children in this picture are cousins who lost their parents to HIV/AIDS and now live with their grandparents in a place that would have been inaccessible by vehicle in the rainy season. Their grandfather is blind and their grandmother has severe cataracts. Faith, the oldest of the cousins, is sixteen and she is the primary caregiver. As we listened to a story that brought tears to our eyes, and as we watched the weight of grief nearly overwhelm Faith and her grandmother, there was still this sense of hope: “Things will get better. We will have enough to eat one of these days. God will not abandon us. And at least for right now we have a roof over our heads. At least we have each other.”

Why is it that we so often get trapped in a sense of hopelessness?  Why do we look at our situation and think, “Things will never get better”? Why do we have such a hard time seeing God at work in our lives?

Jesus tells us: “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God” (Mark 10:25).

I wonder if, as people who live in the “land of plenty”, we have misplaced our hope. We place our hope in wealth (however elusive it might be); we seek security in our government or our jobs; we expect that we will always have enough because even with the downturn in the economy and the many jobs that have been lost we generally have enough (even if it isn’t as much as we want). And we continue to place our trust in princes and mortals “in whom there is no help” (Psalm 146:3) - in people who care about us and love us but cannot save us. In misplacing our hope, we too often consider ourselves to be self-reliant, self-sufficient, and self-assured. If our hope is in the things of this world, then we really do not understand what it means to completely rely on God.

No wonder the church in the United States is struggling to survive. No wonder church often feels more like a social club or a place to feel good about ourselves rather than a life-saving station or a place of forgiveness and grace. Our hope is built on nothing less than – what? I don’t think it really is Jesus’ blood and righteousness. Our hope is too often built on our success, our ability to help others, our happiness. And if we are unhappy or unsuccessful or unable to help others then we feel like we have failed – we are hopeless.

Hope does not come in looking back over the path we have already taken. Hope does not come through wealth or security or education or friends or family. Hope never comes from the things of this world. Hope comes only from God in whom we place our trust.

Despair is often the antonym of hope. Despair is often tied to depression, despondency, discouragement. Does despair come from misplaced hope? Is it a symptom of a people who have lost sight of God? Do those who despair fail to see God in the ordinary? Are they unable to fully rely on God? Do they not believe that God has (awesome!) plans for them?

Abraham was as good as dead when he became the father of Isaac. Lazarus was dead when Mary and Martha cried to Jesus, “If only you had been here, my brother would not have died.” These are stories of hope. And the women saw where Jesus’ body was laid on that day of Preparation so long ago – they saw the stone rolled against the door of the tomb. And yet, on the third day, when the Sabbath was over, against all hope they went to the tomb. Hope.

Hope is not of this world. And yet it is so very tangible. Why is hope easier for me to see in Mexico or Zimbabwe? I wonder if it is because there are less opportunities for misplaced hope in these places. I wonder if it is easier to see God’s kingdom coming on earth when there are less expectations for success and self-sufficiency. Whatever the reasons, it is my prayer that I will learn to rely less and less on the things of this world and more and more on God.

Freedom

July 4, 2012

Some of the unhappiest people I know are those with the most freedom. They have flexible work schedules, time on their hands, money to spend, and very few commitments. They can sleep in and stay up as late as they want, they can put in their eight hours of work in one block or split it up into two or three blocks during the day, and they can eat their meals when they get hungry. They theoretically have time to play games, read books, work in the yard, and enjoy other hobbies. And they often have the financial resources to support these hobbies. It would seem like these people would be the happiest people – free to live their lives as they choose. And yet, in my experience, they are often surprisingly unhappy.

This morning in my devotion I read the following: “In the conduct of one’s own life it is soon obvious, as many have learned the hard way, that empty freedom is a snare and a delusion. In following what comes naturally or easily, life simply ends in confusion, and in consequent disaster. Without the discipline of time, we spoil the next day the night before, and without the discipline of prayer, we are likely to end by having practically no experience of the divine-human encounter.”[1]

Without the discipline of time, we spoil the next day the night before. We become slaves to time, believing we have all the time in the world and then running out of time. Our lack of discipline can leave us scrambling, feeling trapped by our lives. While it may seem incongruous, and even contradictory, true freedom comes through discipline.

The person who gets her work done early has the freedom to accept a last minute invitation to spend time with friends. The person who trains rigorously as an athlete has the freedom and the endurance to strive for greater goals and achieve greater success. The person who plans ahead may seem to have no freedom – and yet, in being proactive instead of reactive a person can find great freedom and flexibility.

Of course, there is a flip side to this. Some people have such packed schedules that they become slaves to busy-ness, finding no freedom in their lives. I was struck by a recent comment: “I don’t have time for church.”  I asked, “Do you have time to pray?” “Well sometimes... when I’m in the car driving.” This person is unhappy. This person is enslaved by his ordering of time. This person knows no freedom.

True freedom comes through discipline.  Of course, I’m a Methodist – and we Methodists believe in discipline (even if we don’t always practice it). Following daily patterns and forming regular habits may sound oppressive and confining, but the truth is discipline leads to true freedom. By ordering the hours of the day with the things that must get done there is space for spontaneity, time for reflection, and the opportunity to work towards a greater goal. In the daily patterns of starting each morning with prayer and exercise and ending the day reading scripture there is great freedom. These simple habits open up a space for encountering God – a space to form deep friendships – a space to know true freedom.

And on those days where discipline goes out the window – well, on those days it is not unusual that we somehow manage to spoil the next day the night before. But each day is a new day – a chance to start again. Each new day gives us the perfect opportunity to strive for a disciplined life. Each day is a new chance to experience grace and forgiveness; a new chance to encounter the perfect freedom found in Jesus Christ.

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[1] Reuben P. Job and Norman Shawchuck, A Guide to Prayer (Nashville: Upper Room Books, 1983), 226. (From Elton Trueblood’s The New Man for Our Time).

Noah's Tears

“For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.” – Jeremiah 29:11

Noah and His Sisters

I have so many vivid memories from my recent trip to Zimbabwe. But I keep coming back to one story – the story of Noah and his siblings – the story that opened my eyes to the depth of the pain and grief and vulnerability of these orphans in Zimbabwe.

We spent the first few days visiting with orphans who had been in the ZOE Ministry empowerment program for just over a year. These children had built strong relationships within their Working Groups – mutually supportive groups of approximately 60 orphans who are like an extended family.[1]  Each family had just harvested an abundance of corn – enough to feed every mouth for a year, with some left over to sell. Beyond building relationships and finding food security, the children were developing useful business skills, finding ways to return to school, and growing in their faith. Each group we met greeted us with beautiful songs sung in harmony and each group prayed with us. We saw orphans who seemed to be well on their way to being independent and happy. 

Given the startling cultural and economic and political differences between the United States and Zimbabwe, it was easy to lose sight of the bizarre reality that the children we met were orphans – households headed by teenagers. It was easy to forget that their parents had died of HIV/AIDS, often leaving them with nothing but each other. During these first visits, I simply didn’t think to ask the hard questions.

Noah's Home

And then, after seeing so much success, we went to visit 14-year-old Noah and his 9-year-old twin siblings – newly identified orphans who were at the beginning of the empowerment journey. As we walked down the dirt path to their home I was immediately struck by their isolation: there were no other people present, no visible community, and no animals – no chickens, no goats, no dogs. Just three kids sitting in a neatly swept compound.

As Noah began to tell his story, tears ran down his face. His parents had died several years ago. His older sister left last year after she got pregnant. The past year has been incredibly hard. Some days there was absolutely nothing to eat. Some days Noah found work, but a full day’s work would barely pay enough for the three of them to have one simple meal. During the cool winter nights the three children shared one blanket on the floor. A neighbor had pity on them and gave them a 3-foot by 5-foot patch of garden to grow greens – something, but far from enough. The field next to the house remained unplowed and unplanted because Noah lacked the resources and the skills.

And tears ran down our faces as we listened to Noah tell a story of grief and isolation and fear.

The Southern Alamance Working Group:
These orphans have been together for one year.

But the full depth of Noah’s pain did not hit me that day. I kept clinging to a future with hope. The knowledge that, thanks to ZOE Ministry, one year from now Noah and his siblings will be part of an extended family of orphans. The certainty that Noah will plant his field, he will establish a garden, he will have chickens. The conviction that God has plans for Noah – plans for his welfare and not for harm. That day I walked away not fully grasping Noah’s tears.

Last week I ran into a friend who made an observation about a mutual friend: “I notice that you two don’t hang out any more.” Before any words could come out of my mouth, tears sprung from my eyes. Grief and pain that I thought I had carefully concealed bubbled up to the surface, unbidden. And in that moment, as I tried to regain my composure, I thought of Noah’s tears.

Healing takes time. Next year when a group from Southern Alamance visits Noah, they will see smiles instead of tears. They will see food instead of an empty pot. They will see a field planted with corn instead of wild grass. They will see Noah surrounded by his new extended family singing songs and praying together.  What they may not see is the grief and pain that remain concealed just below the surface. Healing takes time.

I don’t doubt for a minute that the smiles on the faces of the orphans who have been in the program for a year are real. ZOE Ministry has given them a future with hope. But the staggering reality of their loss is also real. The obstacles they face each day are almost inconceivable. And there are so many orphans who are still incredibly vulnerable. They confront the reality of hunger and fear and grief and isolation every day. Their tears are very real.

Today I learned that Noah has run away from home, leaving his siblings alone. Apparently someone has been bullying him. While I stand firm in the conviction that God has a plan for Noah, a plan for his welfare and not for harm, I also believe Noah’s story is a call to action. While the social workers in Zimbabwe are looking for Noah, we can pray for Noah and for other orphans like him. While ZOE Ministry continues to empower orphans across Africa, we can find ways to empower the least and the last and the lost in our own communities. I truly believe God is making all things new. With God’s help, Noah’s tears will never have the final word.

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[1] For more on ZOE’s empowerment program and working groups, see http://www.zoeministry.org/about/orphan-empowerment-program/.

Feet

“Then Jesus poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him.” – John 13:5

The first thing I did when I got home from Zimbabwe was pick up my dogs and take them to the Eno River for a walk. I suppose that was a little crazy, as 24+ hours earlier I had been riding an elephant at the Imiri Safari Ranch outside of Harare, and we had gone straight from the elephant to the airport.  Three planes and 20+ hours later I landed at RDU.  And just over an hour after that I was standing in the Eno River.

As the water ran over my tired, swollen, filthy feet I could feel the dust of Zimbabwe wash away. I had spent the entire trip in my Chaco’s – I’ve got the tan lines on my feet to prove it! 

I discovered while I was there why foot washing is both necessary and menial work. There was dust everywhere during the dry season. By the end of the day my feet were caked with dust. Before dinner I would wash my feet in soapy water, having to scrub between my toes and around my nails just to get the dust off.  When I had the energy, I washed my shoes as well.  How little we have to think about our feet here in the US where we have close-toed shoes and paved roads and plenty of water.

Feet.  So many of the orphans we met did not have shoes on. It made me wonder about their water supplies: Where did they wash their feet?  Where did they get water to drink? The orphans often had to walk good distances to find potable water – and even then it had to be boiled before they could drink it. No wonder hygiene is one of the first things ZOE Ministry teaches.  Looking at their bare feet and their filthy flip-flops, I wondered how many of the orphans had shoes for school. You can’t go to school without a school uniform, including shoes, and shoes are expensive. And what about disease? Feet. We don’t often think about our feet.

I love being barefoot. It is one of the reasons I prefer sandals to closed-toe shoes. It is one of the blessings of my church and parsonage being less than 50 feet apart. But being shoeless is a choice I make; wearing sandals is my preference.  What a privilege!

Imagine having no shoes when the roads are scalding hot from the sun. Imagine having no shoes on those days when it is really cold.  Imagine having no shoes when it is raining and the paths have turned into mud. Imagine having no shoes and wanting so badly to go to school, even walking several miles in bare feet to get to school in the hopes of learning something anyway. And imagine having no water to spare at the end of the day to wash your dust-covered or mud-caked feet.

And Jesus poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet, setting an example for us, that we should also wash one anothers feet. As I stood in the Eno River that day, letting the flowing water wash my feet, I gave thanks to God for ZOE Ministry. ZOE doesn’t give the orphans shoes like Soles 4 Souls. ZOE doesn’t buy school uniforms for orphans like Zimbabwe Orphan Care. What ZOE Ministy does is so much more powerful: ZOE empowers the orphans to provide for themselves by teaching hygiene and farming and small business skills. ZOE restores a sense of community and cultivates a faith in Jesus Christ.  ZOE Ministry teaches orphans that they (and we!) should also wash one another’s feet.