"As I write this, I am waiting for a bus on a busy corner in a extremely poor community in Central America, in which I lived for a year and have been visiting now for nine years. Most of the time, the tragedy of this place fades into the background of my thoughts, pushed there by familiarity, busyness, and the cheerfulness and the resilience of the people who have welcomed me here. Nonetheless, it is evident that the joy many people here display is in clear defiance of the facts of their daily existence.
Sometimes, moments like this one come when I can no longer ignore these facts, and the sense of tragedy becomes overwhelming. I can see garbage strewn around me-plastic bags, empty bottles, crumpled wrappers, cigarettes-things discarded. Since it is located on the site of an old dump, garbage literally serves as the foundation of this mini-city, which is full of people discarded. I see a young girl walking towards school and I wonder if she shares the experience of so many other girls and young women here whose bodies are used, owned, or defaced. I see a boy whose swagger makes him look older and more confident than he probably is. As he joins the group of laughing older boys, I am aware of how likely his future is to be stolen by gangs and drugs. They are more lucrative ventures than most other job options that will be available to him-lucrative as long as he is alive, that is. Beside me is a woman selling tortillas and green mangoes. Like the innumerable other single moms in this community, she must choose between being with her children and feeding them. Even the dogs, whose ugly skeletal bodies manage to reproduce at obscene rates, join this dance of joy and threat, death and life that is ordinary living here.
From behind me, I hear an old man groan; he is struggling to stand up from where he is sitting against a wall. And it seems to me right now that I can hear in his groan the groaning of this whole place, and for that matter, the groaning of all creation that Paul spoke of in Romans as it waits for its redemption. The groaning of these hills, soaked with the blood of those murdered for a cell phone or a pair of shoes. The groaning of this river, polluted with chemicals and sewage. Holy groans. Like the groans of the people in Egyptian slavery that touched the ears and heart of God. Like the groans of the psalmist while his very bones wasted away. Like groans of the crucified One, bearing the weight of the whole world's pain. I want to groan too, because I don't have any words to speak. So I am thankful for the beautiful Spirit who joins the groaning, who takes my conflicted feelings of guilt and anger and love and intercedes for me with "groans that words could not express." Holy groans.
But now, I am struck by something else. I hear the voice of a little girl coming from around the corner, singing loudly and clearly a song I know well: "Oh love of God, how rich and pure, how measureless and strong, it will forevermore endure, the saints' and angels' song!"
Love of God, rich and pure, measureless and strong. In the middle of so much suffering, this can easily sound like the mockery of an indifferent universe, I am certain of one thing: it must either be a cruel joke or the deepest possible truth. It is easy for philosophers and theologians to debate the question of suffering when they are removed from its stark reality. However, it is a costly thing for those who suffer to speak of the love of God in the midst of their pain. That is why their voice of the carries the ring and force of truth. When it come to questions of love and suffering, the voice of the smallest, the poorest, and the most vulnerable carries an authority far beyond that of philosophical treatises or the debates of the experts. I have read many good books on this topic, and I have even tried to write about it myself. But I have never read anything that speaks so profoundly to life's deepest groans than the song of this child in this place. This song does not dismiss or deny our groaning, but assures us that we do not groan in an empty void, but in the midst of a universe whose truest reality is Love."
Friday, October 7, 2011
Monday, October 3, 2011
Lessons from the rejected
Lesson 2
Community. This is something that we all desire in some form or the other. I have been a part of some incredible communities over the last few years and through these communities I have realized that they are essential. Last Friday I completed the 6th week of my internship. As I interact with the homeless population of Duluth in the drop in center and at my house I have seen some beautiful communities. For example, there is a couple that moved to Duluth and into the shelter the same week that I started my internship. They knew no one. That same week another single guy moved into the shelter after spending a number of isolated weeks living out of his truck. Throughout the last six weeks I have watched these three people find a community, a support system, among one another and with others in the drop in center. This community can be bad, pressuring people into bad decisions, but it can also good. When healthy, community can be the support system that people need to make it out alive. Similarly, this past week our house of hospitality grew from 4 people to 10 people. These new guests have all experienced some pretty traumatic events prior to coming here. Abuse, addictions, violence, and homelessness has brought this group of people together and their budding friendship could be a huge factor in helping them to get out of those situations. It has been such a joy to see these communities forming and I am so thankful to be a part them!
I know full well the importance of community and I desire it in my life. One thing that I am learning though is the amount of trust needed within communities. It is so easy for me to close myself off to others, not allowing them to really know me. Without this openness I am closing myself off to truly being in community with others. Trust and community go hand and hand. Time and time again I find myself in conversations with people who are homeless. These conversations are far from surface level. Maybe, this is why the communities that they form seem so much deeper than most of communities that I see. This level of trust allows them to go so much deeper in their relationships. As a social work student I also understand the importance of boundaries within the relationships between myself and the folks that I interact with at the drop in center. Although, I am learning a lot from seeing these relationships form. As I see community in this setting I feel more pressure to apply these lessons to my communities of support. I am learning the importance of being open and trusting, especially among those who I love.
I hope that no matter where we are we can find communities that care for us, energize us, teach us, and love us. We need this more than we realize. Where do you find community? Are they supporting you? Do you support them? And most importantly, how much do you trust this community to truly know you, care for you, and love you?
Community. This is something that we all desire in some form or the other. I have been a part of some incredible communities over the last few years and through these communities I have realized that they are essential. Last Friday I completed the 6th week of my internship. As I interact with the homeless population of Duluth in the drop in center and at my house I have seen some beautiful communities. For example, there is a couple that moved to Duluth and into the shelter the same week that I started my internship. They knew no one. That same week another single guy moved into the shelter after spending a number of isolated weeks living out of his truck. Throughout the last six weeks I have watched these three people find a community, a support system, among one another and with others in the drop in center. This community can be bad, pressuring people into bad decisions, but it can also good. When healthy, community can be the support system that people need to make it out alive. Similarly, this past week our house of hospitality grew from 4 people to 10 people. These new guests have all experienced some pretty traumatic events prior to coming here. Abuse, addictions, violence, and homelessness has brought this group of people together and their budding friendship could be a huge factor in helping them to get out of those situations. It has been such a joy to see these communities forming and I am so thankful to be a part them!
I know full well the importance of community and I desire it in my life. One thing that I am learning though is the amount of trust needed within communities. It is so easy for me to close myself off to others, not allowing them to really know me. Without this openness I am closing myself off to truly being in community with others. Trust and community go hand and hand. Time and time again I find myself in conversations with people who are homeless. These conversations are far from surface level. Maybe, this is why the communities that they form seem so much deeper than most of communities that I see. This level of trust allows them to go so much deeper in their relationships. As a social work student I also understand the importance of boundaries within the relationships between myself and the folks that I interact with at the drop in center. Although, I am learning a lot from seeing these relationships form. As I see community in this setting I feel more pressure to apply these lessons to my communities of support. I am learning the importance of being open and trusting, especially among those who I love.
I hope that no matter where we are we can find communities that care for us, energize us, teach us, and love us. We need this more than we realize. Where do you find community? Are they supporting you? Do you support them? And most importantly, how much do you trust this community to truly know you, care for you, and love you?
Sunday, October 2, 2011
The Sphere Of Exaltation
This really resonated with me and I wanted to share it...
We have all had times on the mount, when we have seen things from God's standpoint and have wanted to stay there;but God will never allow us to stay there. The test of our spiritual life is the power to descend;if we have the power to rise only, something is wrong. It is a great thing to be on the mount with God, but a man only gets there in order that afterwards he may get down among the devil possessed and lift them up. We are not built for the mountains and the dawns and aesthetic affinities, those are for moments of inspiration, that is all. We are built for the valley, for the ordinary stuff we are in, and that is where we have to prove our mettle. Spiritual selfishness always wants repeated moments on the mount. We feel we could talk like angels and live like angels, if only we could stay on the mount. The times of exaltation are exceptional, they have their meaning in our life with God, but we must beware lest our spiritual selfishness wants to make them the only time.
We are apt to think that everything that happens is to be turned into useful teaching, it is to be turned into something better than teaching, viz., into character. The mount is not meant to teach us anything, it is meant to make us something. There is a great snare in asking-What is the use of it? In spiritual matters we can never calculate on that line. The moments on the mountain tops are rare moments and they are meant for something in God's purpose.
-From the October 1st lesson from Oswald Chambers, My Utmost For His Highest.
We have all had times on the mount, when we have seen things from God's standpoint and have wanted to stay there;but God will never allow us to stay there. The test of our spiritual life is the power to descend;if we have the power to rise only, something is wrong. It is a great thing to be on the mount with God, but a man only gets there in order that afterwards he may get down among the devil possessed and lift them up. We are not built for the mountains and the dawns and aesthetic affinities, those are for moments of inspiration, that is all. We are built for the valley, for the ordinary stuff we are in, and that is where we have to prove our mettle. Spiritual selfishness always wants repeated moments on the mount. We feel we could talk like angels and live like angels, if only we could stay on the mount. The times of exaltation are exceptional, they have their meaning in our life with God, but we must beware lest our spiritual selfishness wants to make them the only time.
We are apt to think that everything that happens is to be turned into useful teaching, it is to be turned into something better than teaching, viz., into character. The mount is not meant to teach us anything, it is meant to make us something. There is a great snare in asking-What is the use of it? In spiritual matters we can never calculate on that line. The moments on the mountain tops are rare moments and they are meant for something in God's purpose.
-From the October 1st lesson from Oswald Chambers, My Utmost For His Highest.
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