I really liked this article from Evangelicals for Social Action... thinking about how we in the church have embraced anti-trafficking work. Stuff to reflect on.
Learning from the Least of These
by Christine Jeske
Isaiah 61, the passage Jesus read in the temple at the start of his ministry, is often sited as motivation for action among the poor and disempowered. “The Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor,” the powerful passage reads, “to bind up the brokenhearted… comfort all who mourn…” and so on. Just beyond those famous words, though, Isaiah continues: “They will called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord, for the display of God’s splendor… Their descendents will be known among the nations… all who see them will acknowledge that they are a people the Lord has blessed.”
Here it is not the person going to “preach good news to the poor” who is called blessed; rather it is the poor themselves. These are people like Thembi of South Africa who cares for her nine orphaned relatives, Carla who serves on her own children’s school leadership committee in Nicaragua, or Burmese refugees in America caring for their urban poor neighbors out of Christ’s love. These people are the oaks of righteousness, and they are everywhere in the world, from the slums of Guatemala City to the prisons of North Korea to the streets of San Francisco. The stories of these “people the Lord has blessed” could fill a thousand books.
For years the main motivation behind Western Christians learning about other cultures has been to be problem-fixers. We want to fix other people spiritually, and in many protestant churches there has been a growing push to fix people’s physical needs also. We want to build the kingdom of God, get it done right, and sit back and feel good about ourselves. “Why shouldn’t we?” we ask proudly. “We have done well economically, have more education than most people in the world, and we have been saved from our sins!”
To this end, we tell stories about the poor with a certain slant. Either we describe people in misery, desperate for an NGO to come help, or we describe the miracle cases of the compassionate organization that changed so-and-so’s life.
This mentality strays toward playing God, and it damages our relationship with both God and God’s people. When people addicted to fixing things interact with people who have been chronically poor or disempowered, they make a bad equation: wealthy people wanting to be needed plus poor people feeling needy. This combination resembles the kind of dating relationship that strays toward abuse, the kind you would advise any friend to get out of in a hurry.
Instead we need to stop and learn from people in traditionally marginalized cultures. Rather than lumping the poor together as objects of pity, we need to notice “oaks of righteousness” among them, let them lead, and ask how to join them. Among the poor are luminaries in faith, perseverance, love, worship, hospitality, godliness, surrender, and of course, on loving the poor.
Jesus loved to teach through unlikely heroes. He never said, “Look at this leader in economic growth, this political giant, or this religious leader known throughout the world.” Instead he said look at a child and learn humility. Look at a widow giving her last coin and learn generosity. Look at a woman of questionable repute washing his feet with her tears and learn worship. Look at a sinful tax collector and learn repentance. He said “Blessed are you who are poor,” not because the poor will receive gifts from the wealthy, but because theirs is, already in their poverty, the kingdom of heaven.
Certainly whatever culture or economic level we come from, we need to ask God how we can pour ourselves out generously as servants for God’s glory. May it not be said of us, though, that we’ve studied, sacrificed, and visited the poor just to fix them. Instead, we need to hang out with the poor knowing that we also are being fixed and that God in his funny way of working loves to teach us and shape us through heroes among “the least of these.”
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Thoughts from Summer Outreach
Here is an update from the summer program Nea Zoi did in the month of July from intern Shelbi W.
"My Grace is Sufficient"
"It is getting harder to leave at the end of the night when we go out to the streets. Can I just stay with them? I promise I will be safe. I know that I am not allowed to be alone out there, but who is going to keep them safe? I find myself wishing that we could go out every night. I have the overwhelming question of "why" screaming in my head all the time. Why. Why her? Why not me? Why is this allowed? Why do you not save them right now God? You walked on water, you healed the sick, you made blind men see... Why are these girls here? Do you know that the girls regularly stand on the streets singing praise songs? Often the conversations go like this: "What fun music! What is it called?" "It is praise music from my country. From Nigeria. Praise to the One who made it all." Then the girl runs off chasing a potential customer. The girls know that what they are doing is sin, but they are trapped by their circumstances and their traffickers. "just as soon as I pay off my debt, then I will find a new job."
"The girls have started to remember me. I do not really blend in here you could say. I remembered their names, thankfully, and was greeted with warm smiles and hugs. I loved seeing them. Its hard not to just grab them, throw them in a car, and go far away. At different times, the girls asked me to sit with them. We would sit there. Just two young women having a conversation. One girl told me of how she missed home. She said she had a lot of family there, but she was here in Athens alone. She told me that if she could, she would go back home right now. She would just fly away and be gone. I am going to find out why she has not done so and offer her the opportunity to go home through Nea Zoi next time I see her.
"Another girl offered for me to sit down on the cardboard box she had set out so the dirty sidewalk would not stain her dress. We laughed at our attempt to both sit on this little pieece of cardboard. We laughed at the size of my butt in comparison to her small frame. We laughed at my recent sunburn and awful tan lines from the merciless Greek sun. We laughed. We talked of how she loved to sing gospel music. I asked her if she would want to sing in front of a crowd ever. She said it did not matter. She loved to sing everywhere. We shared smiles and stories. But we shared an unspoken pain. We could joke and laugh, but we did it amongst the darkness of a street filled with men walking by and gawking at us. She sat safe with me, but I could not keep her safe. Everytime I looked at her I could see a yearning to be as far away from here as she could be. I watched her fiddle with her phone and hands, never really looking up. I wanted to throw away any normal conversation, and just grab her and hold her close to me. I wanted to let her cry. Cry for the injustice of it all. Cry for where her life had taken her. Cry for what had been stolen from her. I could see so much pain that could not come out.
"You see this girl who I sat on the box with. She has not been making enough money, thus her family has been threatened. They have reduced the amount she has to pay off, but she still has another two years [of this work] ahead of her. She is dying inside. You can see it all over her face. Her family has been threatened so she receives pressure from them. She receives pressure from her traffickers. She is ravaged by her customers. She must go out night after night allowing others to take advantage of her. No one seems to care for her. All is hopeless. I look at her and I want to scream at every man that walks by with that disgusting look. I want to fight for her. tell her she is loved. Oh, she is adored. That is when the question "why" begins to scream in my head. I hear "My grace is sufficient." What does that mean? Every time I cry out to the Lord, this is what I hear. Grace. Grace. My Grace. I am not going to pretend to understand. I am not going to play all knowing holy Christian.
"Was I blaming God for all of this? Paul is talking about nothing being out of his own good, but rather from God. I see all this injustice and it is hard to comprehend and understand my God in this context. But why this verse? Is the Lord reminding me that this pain I feel He feels even more than I do? All the filth, this is what sin does. This is what sin is. Have I not been walking in the grace of God? Yes. But what about these girls? I am not questioning that God's grace is not enough, but am I questioning his heart in comparison to mine? When I understand this verse in the context of my life right now I shall let you know.
"Pray For L. Pray for hope. Pray for every girl on this street. Every girl I meet. I have no idea how I will ever be able to leave them. Pray. Pray. Pray. For I know His Grace is sufficient.
"2 Corinthians 12:9 But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." "
~Shelbi W.
"My Grace is Sufficient"
"It is getting harder to leave at the end of the night when we go out to the streets. Can I just stay with them? I promise I will be safe. I know that I am not allowed to be alone out there, but who is going to keep them safe? I find myself wishing that we could go out every night. I have the overwhelming question of "why" screaming in my head all the time. Why. Why her? Why not me? Why is this allowed? Why do you not save them right now God? You walked on water, you healed the sick, you made blind men see... Why are these girls here? Do you know that the girls regularly stand on the streets singing praise songs? Often the conversations go like this: "What fun music! What is it called?" "It is praise music from my country. From Nigeria. Praise to the One who made it all." Then the girl runs off chasing a potential customer. The girls know that what they are doing is sin, but they are trapped by their circumstances and their traffickers. "just as soon as I pay off my debt, then I will find a new job."
"The girls have started to remember me. I do not really blend in here you could say. I remembered their names, thankfully, and was greeted with warm smiles and hugs. I loved seeing them. Its hard not to just grab them, throw them in a car, and go far away. At different times, the girls asked me to sit with them. We would sit there. Just two young women having a conversation. One girl told me of how she missed home. She said she had a lot of family there, but she was here in Athens alone. She told me that if she could, she would go back home right now. She would just fly away and be gone. I am going to find out why she has not done so and offer her the opportunity to go home through Nea Zoi next time I see her.
"Another girl offered for me to sit down on the cardboard box she had set out so the dirty sidewalk would not stain her dress. We laughed at our attempt to both sit on this little pieece of cardboard. We laughed at the size of my butt in comparison to her small frame. We laughed at my recent sunburn and awful tan lines from the merciless Greek sun. We laughed. We talked of how she loved to sing gospel music. I asked her if she would want to sing in front of a crowd ever. She said it did not matter. She loved to sing everywhere. We shared smiles and stories. But we shared an unspoken pain. We could joke and laugh, but we did it amongst the darkness of a street filled with men walking by and gawking at us. She sat safe with me, but I could not keep her safe. Everytime I looked at her I could see a yearning to be as far away from here as she could be. I watched her fiddle with her phone and hands, never really looking up. I wanted to throw away any normal conversation, and just grab her and hold her close to me. I wanted to let her cry. Cry for the injustice of it all. Cry for where her life had taken her. Cry for what had been stolen from her. I could see so much pain that could not come out.
"You see this girl who I sat on the box with. She has not been making enough money, thus her family has been threatened. They have reduced the amount she has to pay off, but she still has another two years [of this work] ahead of her. She is dying inside. You can see it all over her face. Her family has been threatened so she receives pressure from them. She receives pressure from her traffickers. She is ravaged by her customers. She must go out night after night allowing others to take advantage of her. No one seems to care for her. All is hopeless. I look at her and I want to scream at every man that walks by with that disgusting look. I want to fight for her. tell her she is loved. Oh, she is adored. That is when the question "why" begins to scream in my head. I hear "My grace is sufficient." What does that mean? Every time I cry out to the Lord, this is what I hear. Grace. Grace. My Grace. I am not going to pretend to understand. I am not going to play all knowing holy Christian.
"Was I blaming God for all of this? Paul is talking about nothing being out of his own good, but rather from God. I see all this injustice and it is hard to comprehend and understand my God in this context. But why this verse? Is the Lord reminding me that this pain I feel He feels even more than I do? All the filth, this is what sin does. This is what sin is. Have I not been walking in the grace of God? Yes. But what about these girls? I am not questioning that God's grace is not enough, but am I questioning his heart in comparison to mine? When I understand this verse in the context of my life right now I shall let you know.
"Pray For L. Pray for hope. Pray for every girl on this street. Every girl I meet. I have no idea how I will ever be able to leave them. Pray. Pray. Pray. For I know His Grace is sufficient.
"2 Corinthians 12:9 But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." "
~Shelbi W.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Monday, May 3, 2010
next chapter in Ana's story
We just heard that Ana's back in Athens - there was nothing to keep her at home. All her family demanded money, and all those things that made her leave home in the first place are still there! Please pray for encouragement for our volunteers D and V who are still in touch with her, and for wisdom in how to support and encourage her for change! It can be a long journey!
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Ana's story
"Ana*'s back home!" our volunteer D excitedly reported as we met last week. "She actually called from a international phone number!"
Anna is from a small village in Eastern Europe, but we met her here in an ugly brothel. Over the last couple of months, she's opened up to our volunteer about how she got here. A boyfriend that she believed loved her after a year together, a need for a job, lack of job options in her village, and friends who had already migrated to Spain, Italy and Greece.
The problem is that we were never sure if, when and where we would see Anna again. Once she entrusted us with her phone number, we were able to contact her more regularly. Our volunteer D kept contacting her to see if we could help her get out.
But then she called when the police had arrested her. She had to stay overnight in jail, and we couldn't visit her, especially since our volunteer D traveled out of Athens. So another volunteer V who spoke her language offered to go to the courts to support her, even though she hadn't any idea what Ana looked like.
At the courts where women are tried for prostitution, it is so chaotic. All the crowds that we see in Omonoia - drug users, dealers, petty criminals, and the poor are all tried together for petty misdemeanors. After an hour futilely waiting around in hopes of seeing someone that matched Ana's description, our volunteer almost gave up. She decided to wait a few more minutes, looking for a chair to sit down at least. Right behind her, a seat opened up - the only free seat in the courtroom. As she gratefully sank into the chair, she noticed that the girl seated next to her carried an identity card from the same country as Ana. As she curiously looked closer at the i.d. card, it WAS ANA! Wow! She quickly asked her if she was Ana, and knew our other volunteer D. The look on Ana's face was priceless - to realize that someone was waiting for her in the most unpleasant, miserable place! And not just her boyfriend-pimp.
Despite her conviction that her boyfriend would take her home the next day, we saw her again in the brothel. Once again, he didn't keep his word.
But last week, Ana was finally free to go home! I don't know what happened that changed her boyfriend's heart, but Ana got to go home. I'm sure that her emotional bond with this guy is still there, and there are so many woundings and traumas from this whole story. But we rejoice together with Ana on one step forward in her journey towards healing!
*all names are changed to protect identities
Anna is from a small village in Eastern Europe, but we met her here in an ugly brothel. Over the last couple of months, she's opened up to our volunteer about how she got here. A boyfriend that she believed loved her after a year together, a need for a job, lack of job options in her village, and friends who had already migrated to Spain, Italy and Greece.
The problem is that we were never sure if, when and where we would see Anna again. Once she entrusted us with her phone number, we were able to contact her more regularly. Our volunteer D kept contacting her to see if we could help her get out.
But then she called when the police had arrested her. She had to stay overnight in jail, and we couldn't visit her, especially since our volunteer D traveled out of Athens. So another volunteer V who spoke her language offered to go to the courts to support her, even though she hadn't any idea what Ana looked like.
At the courts where women are tried for prostitution, it is so chaotic. All the crowds that we see in Omonoia - drug users, dealers, petty criminals, and the poor are all tried together for petty misdemeanors. After an hour futilely waiting around in hopes of seeing someone that matched Ana's description, our volunteer almost gave up. She decided to wait a few more minutes, looking for a chair to sit down at least. Right behind her, a seat opened up - the only free seat in the courtroom. As she gratefully sank into the chair, she noticed that the girl seated next to her carried an identity card from the same country as Ana. As she curiously looked closer at the i.d. card, it WAS ANA! Wow! She quickly asked her if she was Ana, and knew our other volunteer D. The look on Ana's face was priceless - to realize that someone was waiting for her in the most unpleasant, miserable place! And not just her boyfriend-pimp.
Despite her conviction that her boyfriend would take her home the next day, we saw her again in the brothel. Once again, he didn't keep his word.
But last week, Ana was finally free to go home! I don't know what happened that changed her boyfriend's heart, but Ana got to go home. I'm sure that her emotional bond with this guy is still there, and there are so many woundings and traumas from this whole story. But we rejoice together with Ana on one step forward in her journey towards healing!
*all names are changed to protect identities
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Back at it
After a restful Easter holiday, we started back with our streetwork. I appreciate hearing from many volunteers how much they missed the outreaches - it really becomes part of our lives and hearts! It was also good to see women who remembered us as the ones who brought them Easter presents- either yummy tsoureki or English Bibles.
I am encouraged as well by several of our volunteers who are in regular contact with young women who are considering escape from prostitution. Even when we aren't sure where and how to get in contact with them, God keeps leading our teams to where they are. Please pray for safety and wisdom for these volunteers, and for courage and divine protection for three young women *Gina, *Julie and *Amy to take steps towards life change.
*not their real names!
I am encouraged as well by several of our volunteers who are in regular contact with young women who are considering escape from prostitution. Even when we aren't sure where and how to get in contact with them, God keeps leading our teams to where they are. Please pray for safety and wisdom for these volunteers, and for courage and divine protection for three young women *Gina, *Julie and *Amy to take steps towards life change.
*not their real names!
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Happy Easter
Meditations on the Political Meaning of Easter
Passion Week is at once an intensely personal experience and a political—even cosmic—event. Here are four reminders of the political layers of the story of Jesus’ death and resurrection.
by Heidi Unruh
(http://www.esa-online.org/Article.asp?RecordKey=FA9D37AB-8D11-4294-903C-F5888DD4D7A7)
Passion Week is at once an intensely personal experience and a political—even cosmic—event. Here are four reminders of the political layers of the story of Jesus’ death and resurrection.
1. In “An Evangelical Vision for Public Policy,” Ron Sider describes how the resurrection is central to our ongoing work for justice:
“It was the resurrection that convinced the early Christians that Jesus’ Messianic claim was valid and that the long expected Messianic kingdom had genuinely broken into history. As a result, the early church imitated Jesus’ sweeping challenge to the status quo by offering the world a new society incarnating Jesus’ kingdom values on economic sharing, nonviolence, and the equality of all people. Women and slaves became persons. The rich engaged in economic sharing as there was need. Even as they burned at the stake they loved their enemies. The very character of the early Christian community was itself tangible evidence that the Messianic age of peace and justice, so long expected by the prophets, had already begun.
“However, it was also painfully clear that the old age of evil, injustice, and violence still persisted, even in the church to a certain degree. Jesus himself had taught that the Kingdom of God had begun with his life and work. He also said that the Messianic kingdom of justice and peace would come to its fullness only at his Second Coming. Christians therefore look forward to a coming day, known only to God, when the risen Christ will return to complete his victory over all evil and injustice, when God’s people will live forever in the presence of the risen Lord.”
2. In “The Political Implications of Resurrection Hope,” John Drury asserts that “we who believe in the resurrection of the dead will challenge the adequacy of even the most progressive sociopolitical agendas, for our hope is found in nothing less than the living Jesus Christ.” Drury offers three ways in which the resurrection should guide “our political thinking, deciding and acting,” excerpted here:
“a) The hope of resurrections points us toward a critical appropriation of the politics of life. By raising his son Jesus from the dead, God has shown himself to be the God of the living, not of the dead. Too much public policy treats death as just a part of life. The resurrection of the dead teaches us that death is the last and greatest enemy of God. Those who hope for resurrection take sides with those who fight against the forces of death in their myriad of forms as a parabolic witness to the resurrection.
“b) The hope of resurrection points us toward a critical appropriation of the economics of generosity. Resurrection is not merely the affirmation of the goodness of the created order but the gift of eternal life beyond any inherent potential. The resurrection of the dead is the ultimate act of generosity, giving what is undeserved and unattainable and unimaginable without the gracious initiative of the living God. So God falls on the side of generosity against scarcity.
“c) The hope of resurrection points us toward a critical appropriation of the rhetoric of hope. In the living Jesus, God speaks a word of promise to the whole creation that by his Spirit he will make all things new. Resurrection hope is not a vague desire for progress or a path of escape from this world, but a sure and certain promise that God is for us and not against us and that he will triumph in the end. God falls on the side of hope against fear.”
3. As one specific example of how the resurrection points us toward the “politics of life,” see a piece by Melanie Weldon-Soiset, “The Death Penalty Denies the Gospel”:
“He was taken before the authorities and subjected to abuse and beatings. No one arose to defend his case with the integrity it deserved. Others will later criticize the prosecution for its thinly-veiled biases. Finally, after a farce of a trial, this afflicted and trampled man was sentenced to die.
“Jesus Christ is not the only one in history who has suffered at the hands of such horrifying injustice. Reggie Clemons, a 37-year-old African-American man from Missouri, is now on death row for a 1991 double murder sentence that is full of errors and scandals. …”
4. As you meditate on how Jesus’ resurrection triumphs over death, scarcity, and fear—and how we are called to be living witnesses to this miracle—join with MCC Haiti staff in Port-au-Prince in singing the anthem of hope, “Because He Lives.”
May the hope, joy and courage of the resurrection be yours in all its fullness!
…
Passion Week is at once an intensely personal experience and a political—even cosmic—event. Here are four reminders of the political layers of the story of Jesus’ death and resurrection.
by Heidi Unruh
(http://www.esa-online.org/Article.asp?RecordKey=FA9D37AB-8D11-4294-903C-F5888DD4D7A7)
Passion Week is at once an intensely personal experience and a political—even cosmic—event. Here are four reminders of the political layers of the story of Jesus’ death and resurrection.
1. In “An Evangelical Vision for Public Policy,” Ron Sider describes how the resurrection is central to our ongoing work for justice:
“It was the resurrection that convinced the early Christians that Jesus’ Messianic claim was valid and that the long expected Messianic kingdom had genuinely broken into history. As a result, the early church imitated Jesus’ sweeping challenge to the status quo by offering the world a new society incarnating Jesus’ kingdom values on economic sharing, nonviolence, and the equality of all people. Women and slaves became persons. The rich engaged in economic sharing as there was need. Even as they burned at the stake they loved their enemies. The very character of the early Christian community was itself tangible evidence that the Messianic age of peace and justice, so long expected by the prophets, had already begun.
“However, it was also painfully clear that the old age of evil, injustice, and violence still persisted, even in the church to a certain degree. Jesus himself had taught that the Kingdom of God had begun with his life and work. He also said that the Messianic kingdom of justice and peace would come to its fullness only at his Second Coming. Christians therefore look forward to a coming day, known only to God, when the risen Christ will return to complete his victory over all evil and injustice, when God’s people will live forever in the presence of the risen Lord.”
2. In “The Political Implications of Resurrection Hope,” John Drury asserts that “we who believe in the resurrection of the dead will challenge the adequacy of even the most progressive sociopolitical agendas, for our hope is found in nothing less than the living Jesus Christ.” Drury offers three ways in which the resurrection should guide “our political thinking, deciding and acting,” excerpted here:
“a) The hope of resurrections points us toward a critical appropriation of the politics of life. By raising his son Jesus from the dead, God has shown himself to be the God of the living, not of the dead. Too much public policy treats death as just a part of life. The resurrection of the dead teaches us that death is the last and greatest enemy of God. Those who hope for resurrection take sides with those who fight against the forces of death in their myriad of forms as a parabolic witness to the resurrection.
“b) The hope of resurrection points us toward a critical appropriation of the economics of generosity. Resurrection is not merely the affirmation of the goodness of the created order but the gift of eternal life beyond any inherent potential. The resurrection of the dead is the ultimate act of generosity, giving what is undeserved and unattainable and unimaginable without the gracious initiative of the living God. So God falls on the side of generosity against scarcity.
“c) The hope of resurrection points us toward a critical appropriation of the rhetoric of hope. In the living Jesus, God speaks a word of promise to the whole creation that by his Spirit he will make all things new. Resurrection hope is not a vague desire for progress or a path of escape from this world, but a sure and certain promise that God is for us and not against us and that he will triumph in the end. God falls on the side of hope against fear.”
3. As one specific example of how the resurrection points us toward the “politics of life,” see a piece by Melanie Weldon-Soiset, “The Death Penalty Denies the Gospel”:
“He was taken before the authorities and subjected to abuse and beatings. No one arose to defend his case with the integrity it deserved. Others will later criticize the prosecution for its thinly-veiled biases. Finally, after a farce of a trial, this afflicted and trampled man was sentenced to die.
“Jesus Christ is not the only one in history who has suffered at the hands of such horrifying injustice. Reggie Clemons, a 37-year-old African-American man from Missouri, is now on death row for a 1991 double murder sentence that is full of errors and scandals. …”
4. As you meditate on how Jesus’ resurrection triumphs over death, scarcity, and fear—and how we are called to be living witnesses to this miracle—join with MCC Haiti staff in Port-au-Prince in singing the anthem of hope, “Because He Lives.”
May the hope, joy and courage of the resurrection be yours in all its fullness!
…
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